Reaper Ink
by Bekala
Summary: It's been nine months since the end of the Mayan War and everything seems to have calmed down for Leila and SAMCRO. But when the MC makes a fatal mistake on a gun run and Leila attempts to handle all her problems on her own the peace they've fought for comes dangerously close to collapsing. Will Charming ever manage to live up to it's name? *This is the sequel to Ye Wayward Sons*
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own anything you recognize.**

**So here we are at chapter one. For those of you who don't know this is the sequel to Ye Wayward Sons. It is possible to read this without reading Wayward but I don't suggest it. For the rest of you, thanks for following me from one story to the next. **

**Enjoy**

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"Honey, I'm home," he'd always wanted to yell that after a run. Stomping into the foyer of the small apartment, he drops his keys and gun on the side table.

"Great, I didn't make dinner but there's beer in the fridge." Of course you didn't make dinner he thinks, I've only been gone on a dangerous week long mission. If there's one thing Chibs has learned in the five months he's lived with her it's that Leila Trager never cooks. He's pretty sure she can't to be honest but he wouldn't know because he's never even seen the stubborn bitch try.

He toes off his boots and heads for the small open kitchen. The old fridge was indeed fully stocked with beer, although aside from a few take away containers that seemed to be all it was stocked with. "Where yeh at darlin?" This is not the first time he's gone on a run since they decided to try living together in Tig's little apartment but it's the first time she hasn't met him at the door.

"Right here boyo." Her voice is soft from behind him and he chuckles at her attempt to use Scottish slang. He's still a bit miffed about the lack of food so he takes his time popping the top on his beer before he turns around.

"Yeh know Leila a man could get tired of coming home to an empty table." He turns as he talks and the sight that greets him almost causes him to drop his bottle.

"I said I didn't make dinner, I didn't say your table was empty." She's perched on the edge of the small kitchen table, leaning back on her hands, a devious smile on her pretty little face, and she's completely naked. "Still hungry?"

"Starvin actually." She shrieks when he lets the beer bottle drop and it shatters across the kitchen tile but it turns into a laugh when he charges at her, swinging her naked body up over his shoulder. He slaps her ass and she yelps again. "I'm gonna teach yeh how to welcome a man home properly," he smacks her again and her laughter trails them into the bedroom.

* * *

The harsh flick and fire of the zippo is the only light in the darkness of the bedroom. She's sprawled out on Chibs bare chest, thoroughly fucked. He'd had her three times in the last 90 minutes and Leila feels boneless. It's been nine months since the end of the Mayan war and she's never been happier.

"Well," she takes a quick hit off the joint her offers her, "I don't think I'm going to make dinner ever again." His full laugh shakes her form.

"Aye darlin, I'll take yeh out to dinner every night if yeh set the table like that from now on." She passes the joint back and giggles into his chest.

"So, how was the run?" She leans in to take the offered shotgun of smoke and then blows it back into his face with a smile. "Did you get me a present?" Leila pushes her self up so she's straddling his chest and reaches behind for his half hard member. He chokes on his exhale at her touch.

"Aye, although it doesn't seem like I needed to, considering." Chibs drops the joint into the ashtray beside the bed and reaches up to cup her breast, she arches into his hand. His fingers tug at the barbell through her nipple and she slides down his body.

"Is it a good present?" She's poised above him now still wet and ready from their earlier excursions and Leila revels in teasing him just a bit.

"Aye, it's a very good present." His free hand is fisted in the sheets and his eyes haven't left the spot where their bodies will soon be joined.

"Okay then," she sinks down onto him and shifts just a bit to accommodate his girth. She starts to move, slowly. Leila can still remember the early days of their relationship when all she wanted was rough and fast. She'd been too strung out on recent events to care about the subtleties of a slow fuck. Chibs had humored her, and for months she'd wake up with handprints bruised into her hips but he'd kept at his attempts for slow and she'd come to enjoy the gentle burn.

"Jeysus yer tight, even after all that." His eyes are squeezed shut and he's got a hand on her thigh guiding her movements. His fingers unconsciously trace the song bird tattooed there and he tugs at her nipple just a bit too hard.

"We have family dinner at Gemma and Clay's tomorrow and I need you to come by the shop in the afternoon, I've got that guy scheduled for his last sitting." She doesn't stop riding him as she relates the activities for the next day and she loves the way he nods in agreement without opening his eyes. His hips move in time with hers and she can already feel the slow build of completion pooling in her stomach.

"Aye Leila-Luv, we can do all those things. Just tilt yer…" She complies immediately, she knows what he wants and she shifts her hips just enough to take him deeper. She can feel the hard head of his cock jutting up into the space where her uterus should be and lets out a low moan. "That's it, good girl," his voice fades off into Gaelic or something and she moves her hips just a bit faster. She loves when she manages to steal his english.

"So what'd you get me on the run?" She tries to sound casual even through her panting breath.

"Mother Mary of Christ woman do you ever shut up." His eyes snap open and even though she knows he's not really mad Leila still jumps when he lunges up beneath her and she lands under him on her back. "Now shut up and get off."

She starts to giggle into his chest at the harsh words but the sudden force of his thrusts steals her breath. His lips find hers and he kisses her hard even as one of his hands trails down between them to rub at her clit. She arches up into him and the feeling of his calloused mechanics fingers between her legs is enough to throw her already sensitive body over the edge. She pulls away from his mouth and bites down into his shoulder as she comes and it only takes a few more snaps of his hips before he's following her over.

Chibs rolls to the side, landing on his back next to her, still breathing hard. "I should go away more often." She glances to find herself looking at a cheeky smile.

"I'm sure you'd like that you bastard. I have no doubt you spent the week getting head and drinking." Her voice is light but she feels the familiar expectation of betrayal settling into her chest. She's not his old lady and even if she was he'd have no reason to stay monogamous. What happens on a run stays on a run, if she was going to keep up whatever she had going here she was going to have to get used to that. So far Chibs' hadn't given her any reason to think he'd strayed but there was always the next time and the next.

"I don't know what kinda man yeh think I am but if I'd gotten a blow job this week I doubt I would have managed round four there. I'm not a young man yeh know. Twenty-nine next month darlin." His voice is light and teasing but when his hand turns her head to meet his eyes they're honest. She nods and curls herself up against him.

"So where's my present?" He chuckles into her hair and reaches down to pull the blanket up over both of them.

"I missed yeh, silly girl. Go to sleep and I'll give yeh the gift in the morning. If yer good." Leila didn't need to be told twice, she never slept when he wasn't in the house and this run had been particularly difficult because Tig had gone along too. With none of the men in her life within a hundred miles Leila had been jumpy all week. The solid feel of the man under her and the boneless feeling of the afterglow were already going a long way towards sending her into a deep slumber.

"I missed you too Chibs."

"Uh huh." His hand settles onto her back rubbing calming circles and she's asleep in seconds.

* * *

Chibs wakes with the bright light of morning shining onto his face through the cheap blinds of the bedroom. He reaches on instinct for Leila and his eyes snap open when he finds her side of the bed empty and cold. He rolls over and inhales her scent from the abandoned pillow, the damned girl had gotten under his skin something fierce.

Sitting up he reaches for the flannel pants at the foot of the bed, pulling them on he goes without a shirt as he heads out into the main room. Tig had done well when he'd chosen the apartment years ago, with old wood floors and lots of windows the place was cheery once they'd cleaned it up. Chibs didn't even want to think about the days spent hauling things out and down to the dumpster. The kitchen sink had been so clogged with blood and carnage when Leila first moved in they'd given up on fixing it and Tig had paid to have the plumbing redone, by a club friendly company of course. Chibs was pretty sure he'd pulled a human finger bone out of garbage disposal that first day.

Now though, the place is warm and well decorated. Leila's influence is everywhere, from the oddly mismatched furniture to the random wall murals spread throughout, she'd made herself at home. The smell of coffee and bacon leads him into the small kitchen off the family room and he finds a mug and a plate waiting for him on the counter. The bacon is burnt and the eggs are runny as shit but at least she made a slight effort. Breakfast was the only thing Leila ever came close to cooking and he imagines this is an apology for the lack of real dinner the night before.

He leaves the plate but picks up the coffee and heads out to the sun porch. This is her space, if the apartment has her influence, this room is where she took complete control. There's a whole wall of glass facing South and she'd set up the room as an art studio. On top of her tattoo work Chibs had been surprised to find out the girl was a rather accomplished painter. Canvases lean against the far wall and there are two easels with half finished work set up just inside the door.

He leans against the frame and observes his woman. She's sitting at the angled drawing table and he knows from the pencil in her hand she's working on a tattoo design. She's wearing one of his button down shirts and nothing else, perched on the stool, her legs tucked up underneath her body. The morning sun glints off her still messy red curls. He'd been surprised when she'd dyed her hair again and amused when she joked that she was just trying to make him feel more at home by "going Irish." The red she'd chosen was too dark to be mistaken for the classic Irish ginger but new color suited her.

She'd been so happy the last few months, so different from the lost little girl he'd met months before. The woman that shared his bed now was confident, funny, and mature. There had been moments where he was sure she was going to flee again but they'd managed to make it through them with only a few tears and now she seemed so settled. She had her own shop, the deal with the boy from Salt Lake had fallen through and Clay had offered SAMCRO up as a business partner. Chibs had been surprised when she'd agreed but so far things were running fine. One of the nomad lads who could ink had been hanging around for the last few months and she'd hired two other artists out of Lodi. Leila had been concerned about opening a shop in a town as small as Charming but so far she seemed to be getting on fine. Bobby was doing her books and Chibs was satisfied that she had enough roots to maybe calm her down for good.

All the good was making what happened on the run that much harder for him to deal with. He slurps a bit of the coffee and she turns towards him with a brilliant smile, his heart involuntarily skips a beat. He's in love with her and it's going to make what happened last week that much more dangerous.

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**I hope you all don't hate the mild cliffhanger there too much. Reviews are always welcome but I want to thank everyone who reads regardless. **


	2. Chapter 2

***I do not own anything you recognize***

**Wow, so the response to chapter one was just amazing. You guys are great! Thanks for all the reviews and the reads. I hope you like this chapter just as much. I had a great time writing the end of this one and I can't wait to hear what you think. K. Holtzman, I hope this will satisfy some of your need to see the shop but I am working on a oneshot that will have more detail. Keep an eye out. **

**Enjoy**

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Leila pulls the Chevelle into her usual space in front of the shop. It's still shocking to see the big "Reaper Ink" sign hanging over a space that's mostly hers. The original plan had been to go into business with Mark in Lodi. They'd even gone so far as to have franchise paperwork drawn up, but Mark had pulled out at the last minute. He'd offered her some bullshit about not having the money at the time but Leila has no doubt his bitch baby mama was behind the whole mess.

Angie had been horrendous during the time Leila spent in Utah getting her things together for the relocation to Charming. The stupid woman had been nothing but nasty words for Leila and dirty looks for Tig, Chibs and Bobby. It all came to a head when Angie walked in on Tig cleaning his gun in the back room of the Salt Lake shop. The pregnant bitch had fainted and then had the balls to tell Mark she'd been threatened. Mark had never been a fan of the club and he'd had no trouble believing the lie. Leila had been sad but unsurprised to see their three year friendship finally crumble under the weight of this newest drama. Things change.

She'd gone back to Charming a bit hopeless and spent two weeks looking into her own finances and talking to banks about business loans in an attempt to get back on track. She'd come up empty pretty fast, as most banks were less than willing to loan out large sums of money to young, MC affiliated tattoo artists. Chibs had offered to help, but he was just as strapped as she was and Tig had child support for Dawn and Fawn sucking him dry. Leila had almost given up and had actually started filling out applications for other work when Clay and Jax had shown up at her door.

There's no doubt Gemma was behind the generous offer for the club to back the opening of a new shop. The MC queen had been thrilled when Leila announced that she planned to stay in Charming and the offer of a SAMCRO business loan reeked of Gemma's usual manipulation. Leila hadn't wanted to open the new place in Charming but it was the one stipulation Clay was unwilling to budge on so she'd given in. So far business was better than expected. They were brining in about three grand a week and while Leila has no doubt it has something to do with several visits the boys made to rival shops in Lodi she can't complain.

She climbs out of the car with a sigh and heads for the door. It's going be a long day, she's got two appointments on the books for large pieces and this afternoon Kevin was coming in for the last of six sessions to finish a large chest spot. Leila has grown used to inappropriate looks from the men she works on, she has to spend a lot of time with anyone she inks and there's usually a fair amount of touching involved. It makes sense for some of the men to get ideas that aren't exactly copacetic, but Kevin was a whole different story. She'd felt uncomfortable around the man since the first time he'd walked into the shop and asked for her by name. With his watery blue eyes and wandering hands he'd made her stomach churn in a way that was wholly unfamiliar. To make matters worse, after the first two sessions he'd taken to showing up around the shop when he didn't have any business being there, just to talk or rather stare at her while she worked.

Leila made the mistake of mentioning her discomfort to Jax, who immediately told Tig and Chibs. She knew the boys had paid Kevin a visit to scare him off but she'd still had to finish his tat so they couldn't keep him away for good. Technically he hadn't really done anything inappropriate, well until last week that is. Chibs had been gone on the run for three days when she'd gone out the Chevelle and found the picture tucked under her wiper blade. It'd been of her several days before leaving the local grocery store and on the back Kevin had drawn a heart and signed his name. Leila's first instinct had been to run to Gemma at the clubhouse but the picture had been taken in a public place and put on the Chevelle while it was outside the shop. No private property had been violated and even though the guy gave her the creeps Leila would rather not get someone killed over being creepy. Tig would kill him too, that much she was sure of.

So she'd shredded the image and hadn't mentioned the newest development to anyone. She did plan to have a talk with Kevin about not coming around after today. First, however, she had to make it to his afternoon appointment without passing out from exhaustion. Chibs was always insatiable after a run but last night had been ridiculous, she'd barely gotten any sleep as the Scot kept her up with an almost desperate need to touch her. Everything had been going so well the last few months. There were road bumps sure, but for the most part her world had settled down into a happy pattern and Leila was unwilling to disrupt it with unnecessary questions or drama. Yep, she'd keep the Kevin thing to herself and she wouldn't push Chibs for information about the run. Ignorance is truly bliss.

She pushes into the shop and hands off her portfolio to the girl working behind the front desk. The girl was a new hire, recommended by Juice and Leila has no doubt the newly patched brother is tapping it.

"Good morning," the bottle blonde chirps and Leila spares her a smile.

"Good morning Talia, is Happy here yet?" Leila scans the main room but finds no sign of the big nomad. He'd been a life saver when the shop first opened. For a few weeks Leila had been able to handle demand on her own but with SAMCRO recruiting customers things had quickly gotten out of control. Tig made a call and the bald biker had shown up the next day, ink in hand, to help out. Happy was a born killer and he sometimes disappeared for weeks on business but he'd been a huge success and Leila had developed a bit of a friendship with him.

"He's in the back room. Your first appointment is in an hour." Talia's breathy little voice would sound better on the other side of a phone sex hotline but she had been quick to pick up on her responsibilities and Leila was so far impressed with her competency.

"Thanks." Leila heads through the parlor, passing the standard flash sheets hung on the walls and the three tables. They'd recently expanded into piercings and the extra set up was making the small space feel a bit crowded. The place was never really meant for tattoos in the first place. It had originally been a butcher shop but Leila had loved the exposed brick of the walls and the price had been right. It had taken some work, and the building's previous use was still obvious in the tile floors and large central drains, but it's hers and she loves it.

Happy is bent over one of the two desks shoved into the back, his bare head bent over a sketchbook as Leila breezes into the converted walk-in freezer that now functions as an office.

"Working hard?" His head snaps up and those killer eyes find hers.

"Hey baby girl," He drops his pencil and lights a smoke. "Come look at this shit I've got done for that red head." Leila has no idea what red head he's talking about but she comes around the side of the desk anyways to look down at the sketch pad over his shoulder. The sketch is abstract and far outside Happy's usual style but she recognizes the design immediately.

The crow is in shades of grey with swooping wings and the traditional turned head, in it's dangling claws the bunched up Scottish flag screams at her. So she was the red head.

"Did Chibs ask you do this?" Leila can't bring herself to meet Happy's eyes as she asks the question. Chibs had been pushing over the last few months to make things official but she'd been holding off not willing yet to take the plunge. Things have been so good the way they are she's loathe to make a change without knowing what's really going to happen next. She can feel anger at the backwards way the Scot had gone about getting the claim drawn up slowly building.

"Yea," Hap's rough voice fills the small office, "he didn't mean no pressure by it, just said you two'd been talking about things and he wanted me to have it ready."

"Right. Well put it away for now, we'e got real work today. You have a tramp stamp this morning and I've got Kevin this afternoon." Happy's face darkens at the mention of the other man.

"He still creeping you out? I'll kill him you know, don't have to get the rest of the boys involved. I can do it nice and slow or quick and quiet, up to you baby." She has no doubt the club killer is serious about the offer but she shakes her head.

"No, this is the last session before he's done and hopefully he won't be around Charming much after today." Hap isn't pleased with her logic but he nods all the same.

"Just let me know." His smile is terrifying but they're interrupted by the bell over the door and the nomad stands to head out into the shop without another word.

Leila stares down at the crow for another long moment and she can tell from the curve of the wings just where Happy means it to sit. She picks up the tracing paper on impulse and closes the door to get at the full length mirror on the back. Pulling up the bottom of her tank top she tucks the tail of the shirt under her chin to hold it in place. Pressing the tracing paper between her hips she decides Happy's been taking too much of an interest in her body, it fits perfectly. The widest part of the wings brush against each exposed hip bone and he'd curled the bottom of each wing so that her scar on the right wouldn't get in the way. She stands still for a moment appreciating the image of herself as a true old lady and sighs. She's just about to drop her shirt when the door bursts open, her head snaps up to find Chibs standing wide eyed in the opening.

"Well isn't that a dream come true." The Scot's eyes are trained on the tracing paper still against her abdomen and Leila snatches it away, dropping her shirt back into place. The smug bastard has a big smile for her and she refuses to return it as she turns to tuck the drawing back into Hap's sketch book.

"I'm sure it is. I take it the last conversation we had about this went better for you than it did for me because if I remember correctly I said not right now." She's angry with him but she feels a bit of her frustration fade away as his arms come around her from behind, his lips find her neck and he presses her into the edge of the desk.

"Aye, I remember but yeh can't fault me for wanting to keep yeh." He pushes up against her just a bit more and she can feel him hard against her ass. "See darlin, I'm stiff at just the thought, imagine what it would be like if that bird was inked into yer hips. It'd certainly be fun to look at when I'm between those tight thighs of yers." He punctuates his words with a bite to her earlobe and she can feel her traitorous body starting to grow slick for him.

"I'm not ready for that Chibs, taking the crow, becoming an old lady, it's MC marriage and we're certainly not there yet." She's right, she knows it but one of his hands is sliding up the front of her shirt to push under her bra and her hips snap back against his of their own accord.

"Aye, okay," she hates how resigned he sounds but then his fingers pull at a pierced nipple, "doesn't mean I can't fuck yeh now though, right?" She has no idea how he could possibly want more sex after the night before but she is already wet for him and has no plans to argue.

"Yes please," the words come out as a gasp and his free hand is already at the snap on her jeans popping them open. Her fingers grip the edge of the desk, white knuckled as he slides a hand between her legs.

"Oh lass," he pushes two fingers up into her and the hand on her breast leaves, she can hear him struggling with his belt behind her. She's panting in time to the thrusts of his fingers and is getting impatient with his one handed efforts. She's just about to turn and help him with his pants when the door is thrown open a second time.

"Oh Fucking A! Could you two keep that shit to someplace private!" Tig's voice is an immediate mood killer and Leila slumps forward over the desk torn between embarrassment and laughter.

"Get out Tig." Chibs' voice has a dangerous quality to it and Leila tries to turn and diffuse the situation but Scot seems unwilling to let her step in. His fingers are still inside her and he curls them in a way that has her releasing an involuntary moan.

"No. If you're going to fuck my daughter without permission I plan on staying right here for proof." Jesus her father was an ass.

"Tig I swear to God if you don't close that door right now I'll make sure you get a show." Leila is desperate, Chibs' thumb starts slow and steady circles on her clit.

Tig makes a disgusted noise in the back of his throat, "You are gross. I'll give you five minutes," he turns to go and she hears the door shut.

"What a hypocrite," she mutters, "he's certainly been party to dirtier things than a quickie in the back office." Chibs chuckles into her ear.

"Don't worry about it darlin' he's just being protective. Now since I'm obviously not going to get what I want in five minutes let's see what I can do about yeh." The hand between her legs starts moving in earnest and his other comes back up to cup her breast. His lips find her neck again and he sucks at the skin under her ear hard enough to leave a mark. She arches back into him with a whine. She doesn't know how he manages to reduce her to begging every time but as his thumb picks up tempo on her clit she knows in this moment she'd give him anything he wants.

He uses his booted feet to kick hers father apart and the new stance gives him better access, his coarse fingers push deeper. The hand at her chest is rolling her nipple easily and after months of practice he knows just how she likes it. He waits until she's panting with pleasure and then he pulls at her piercing even as his fingers curl inside her. The dual sensations are too much for her and Leila comes undone with a cry, her body going limp over the top of the desk. She comes back to the world with the feeling of his lips moving down the column of her throat and his arms are back around her middle holding her up against his chest.

"God I love watching yeh come apart," his voice is gruff and she feels bad that she can't do anything about the hardness still pressing into her back. As though to drive this thought home there's a pounding on the door followed by Tig's yelling.

"I heard that you bastard Scot." Leila giggles into her hand, Tig may have been happy when she'd decided to stay and he and Chibs had developed a truce of sorts but her father still didn't like the idea of her fucking his SAMCRO brother.

"Yeh were meant to hear it Tigger." Chibs' voice sounds just a bit triumphant and when he turns her to kiss her mouth Leila can see his smile.

"That's not going to help things," she whispers against his lips.

"Who cares." He kisses her one more time before pulling away to let her sort her clothes. She finishes doing up her jeans and nods at him to open the door.

"What are you two doing here anyways?" she asks as they step out into the shop.

"We're here to protect you from that creep, not get off in the office." Tig pipes up from beside the door and Leila can't help but notice his pouting lip. What a joke.

"Yes well, we," she waves her hand back forth between them, "didn't get off in the office, I did and it's really none of your business. So just stop whining and be protective." She can already see her first appointment of the day waiting near the desk and she heads towards the front of the shop trying to ignore the men of her life. They're more trouble than they're worth most days.

She stops at Happy's table to check on the tramp stamp he's just starting. "That's going to look great." Her words are directed at Hap but the customer beams over her shoulder.

"I take it Chibs liked my work." Happy's knowing smile leaves Leila with no doubt he'd heard everything that went on in the back and was very pleased with himself.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She squeezes his shoulder and moves forward to greet her first client.

* * *

**Reviews are always welcome and I'm still taking requests for The Wayward Sons oneshot collection so let me know if there's something you need more of.**


	3. Chapter 3

***I do not own anything you recognize***

**I'm glad you're all so excited about the first two chapters. I have to give credit to Voracious_Bitch for the idea about the shop being a butcher shop before Leila got ahold of it. If any of you are interested in finding out more about the beginnings of the shop and the time between Wayward and this story I've got several new oneshots up over at The Wayward Sons that explain things. Thanks for the reviews and enjoy. **

* * *

"What's this?" Tig had been wandering around the shop aimlessly for the last hour and he knew he was starting to drive Leila crazy but he didn't care. He watches as she wipes at the thigh of the girl she's working on before looking at up at him.

"What?" Yep, she looks pissed. Good, girl had it coming after the show she put on in the back office with Chibs.

"This on the wall." He points forcefully at the framed diploma hanging over her workstation. It has to be a fake.

"That's my AA diploma. I found it in some of the boxes last week, decided I might as well put it up." He has no fucking idea what she's talking about. He knew she'd gotten through high school but that was mostly thanks to Gemma.

"It's your what?" She lets out an exasperated sigh and he gives her a hard look. Girl's got too much lip, he's her father damnit.

"It's an AA, a two year college degree. I got it at the local community college in Salt Lake." She turns back to the ink she's working on and he stares up at the framed piece of paper. A college degree; Jesus. He had no idea she'd gone and gotten herself educated. His baby girl a college grad.

"That's incredible Leila." He turns back just in time to see her shaking her head and he knows she'll never believe he's proud even if he says it, so he doesn't bother. The Scot can do it for him. "Hey Chibs," he shouts out across the shop.

"Tig don't," Leila doesn't actually spare him a glance so he ignores her.

"What's up brother," Chibs wanders over to her table and Tig points up at the wall.

"Did you know our girl went to college? Got herself an AA." The surprised look on the Scot's face goes a long way towards making Tig feel better. At least his baby wasn't telling other people her secrets either.

"A what?" The Scot looks confused and Tig is vindicated.

"It's a two year degree you dumbass, she's a college grad, look." He hears a snort from Leila at his reiteration of her earlier explanation and ignores it. Instead he watches as the Scot scans the diploma.

"Well damn lass that's amazing, cause for celebration really." The Scot is smiling big and Tig has to fight down the urge to punch him for daring to touch his daughter.

"You're all done sweetheart," Leila is wrapping up her client's leg and she helps the smiling girl off the table before turning to the two men. "You're both idiots you know that, I got it almost two years ago, it was just night school. Not to mention it's in English so it's pretty much useless in the real world." She's got her hands on her hips and she looks pissed but Tig knows his baby girl, there's pride in those big golden eyes.

"It's more than the rest of us have got luv, I'm a bit proud of yeh. Why didn't yeh ever mention it?" She's smiling now and she leans into Chibs. Tig feels a familiar jealousy rear it's head. She never would have taken those words seriously from his mouth, at least someone was able to tell her.

"Because I knew Tig would make fun of me and you'd make a big deal." Chibs runs a hand through her now red hair and Tig feels one of his hands clench into a fist.

"Nah lass, I'm sure yer Da's proud of yeh too, right Tigger?" Chibs glances back at him and Tig just shrugs.

"It's useless but it looks damn fine on your wall." Her face falls and he immediately feels like shit. Sorry kitten he thinks, just fulfilling all your high expectations.

"Right," she pulls away from the Scot and starts cleaning up her workstation, "well you two better go find seats up front, Kevin will be here soon and that's the whole reason I agreed to this day long annoyance."

"Absolutely." Chibs throws an arm around his shoulders and Tig lets himself get led up to the waiting area. He glances back once to watch her, she's standing in front of the diploma holding a mess of rags in her latex covered hands. He's a shit dad.

* * *

Leila is working the front desk trying to ignore the fact that Chibs and Tig are arm wrestling in the corner when the bell over the shop's door rings. She's just straightening up to greet whoever it is when she recognizes him. Kevin Smith is a mostly put together man, neat blonde hair, clean cut clothes, and nothing but friendly smiles but his wide blue eyes make Leila feel like she's been soaked with ice water.

She can't put her finger on just what it is about him that's so wrong to her, aside from the mild stalking that is, but there's something in his eyes that just screams a warning. He smiles brightly at her and she forces herself to return it.

"Mr. Smith," best to keep things formal, she doesn't want him getting any ideas.

"Leila," he sounds far too happy to see her, "how are you today?" the smile never reaches his eyes and Leila glances towards the men in the corner but they're both so wrapped up in their dick measuring contest neither looks up. "Leila," Kevin's voice has a sudden edge, "I asked how you're doing today."

"Right," she snaps her eyes back to his face and struggles with her smile, "I'm great. Are you ready? We'll be finishing up today."

His smile widens and she wonders how his lips don't split, "I'm very excited."

"Come on then."

Leila leads him into the back of the shop and pulls on her gloves while he pulls off his shirt. She waits for him to settle face up on the table before she starts to get all her gear together. She gets the inks out and makes sure he's watching before she opens the pack of new needles then sets up the machine. Leila stares down at the work she's already done, the piece is a bit ridiculous in her opinion but when he'd come in two months before and asked for it he'd mentioned her by name and she'd had no choice but to draw it up.

It's religious in nature, a huge, full color image of Jesus with spread arms. There is script curling around the top and bottom, "_Many are the plans in the minds of man, but it is the purpose of the Lord that will stand_." Leila knows the quote is from the bible but she couldn't begin to identify the book or verse. The whole concept makes her uneasy and the way Kevin had smiled when he'd first recited it to her still made her fearful. She throws one last glance to the front of the shop, zeroing in on Chibs and then sprays Kevin's chest with greensoap and fires up the gun.

All that's left to do today is recolor on pieces that were damaged during the scabbing process and fix a few holidays in the black of the words. Leila starts with the words and for a while she thinks she might be able to make it through without awkward conversation but she's just getting to the 's' in is when Kevin speaks.

"So I see your boyfriend got back from his trip. Are you happy to have him home?" She pushes the needle just a bit too hard and rubs at it with a rag.

"Sorry about that, yea I'm glad he's back." She can feel her instincts kicking in, this is Kevin's first appointment in three weeks, he shouldn't have any idea that Chibs was gone at all. She tries to remember if she'd mentioned the run during the last session but it had been a gun run and there's no way she would have brought it up in casual conversation.

She sets the needle back in motion and tries to avoid looking at his face, he never stops fucking grinning. "I'm sure you're glad. You're always so timid Leila, it would make sense for you to want a strong man around to protect you." She forces herself to focus on continuing the fix but her hands are starting to shake just a bit. "Are you sure the foreigner is strong enough to keep you safe?" The words combined with his cold tone go straight to her core, this time she can't help the way the needles jam into his stomach and the blood wells up fast.

"Stupid bitch," Kevin's shout echoes around the shop and Leila hears chairs clatter in the front. He's jumped off the table and is inspecting the wound.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, let me get a cloth." She reaches for the rag on the side table and jumps when his hand clamps down around her wrist.

"You did that on purpose." His eyes are wild and Leila drops the machine onto the tray with a clatter already ducking for the gun hidden on the bottom shelf when Happy steps up.

"You'll take your hand off the lady." Hap's voice is cold and Leila can see Chibs and Tig moving towards the back, Tig has his own gun drawn.

"Yes, sorry. Leila I'm sorry." Kevin releases her and she snatches her hand back to her chest rubbing at it. "I'm sure you didn't mean to do it." His mask is back, the smile firmly in place.

"I'm sorry I'm not feeling well today, a bit light headed. We can get that cleaned up and Happy can finish you." She looks up at the nomad and he's nodding in dark agreement, she has no doubt Hap's taking the word _finish_ in a whole different context.

"No, no, that's okay. If you're not feeling well I'll make another appointment. You should have said something dear." Tig is staring at her over Kevin's shoulder an obvious question in his eyes, the gun half raised.

"That'll be fine." She shakes her head at Tig and watches as he holsters the gun just as Kevin turns around.

"I'm sorry gentlemen, just a little misunderstanding." Kevin is all smiles for Chibs and Tig but the men don't smile back. Leila shoots Chibs a warning glance and they move to let the blonde man by. "Leila, I hope you feel better."

"Yea, thank you. Talia will set you up in the front." Kevin moves away and Leila watches slightly reassured as Tig and Chibs follow him out.

"What the fuck." Happy is standing over her now and he looks murderous. "What happened?"

"I," She starts to talk but cuts herself off, Leila's seen enough senseless death at the hands of the MC. She can handle herself, there's no reason to get the boys involved. "I'm just not feeling well," the lie is unconvincing, "I got shaky hands and jammed the needle. It was nothing Hap. Go finish your day. I'm going to go home before the dinner." The nomad looks wholly unconvinced but he nods and heads off to his table to finish up the armband he'd been working on.

That was the right thing to do Leila thinks; she doesn't need the MC putting her on some protection detail. She's a killer, she can take care of her own shit but when she glances down at her still shaking hands she's not so sure.

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**Reviews are always welcome. Thanks for reading. **


	4. Chapter 4

***I do not own anything you recognize***

**Thanks for the reviews and the reads. I hope everyone is liking this so far. **

**Enjoy. **

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Chibs is sitting on the edge of their shared bed watching Leila bounce around the room getting ready for dinner. He's still feeling guilty about the afternoon drama in the shop. Leila had brushed it off as nothing when he and Tig had returned from seeing Smith to his car and Chibs hadn't been able to see any outward signs that she was shaken but he knew she was. He knew the guy creeped her out and he'd been more than happy to come to the shop for every appointment but so far Chibs hadn't seen anything that would make Kevin Smith more than a slight blip on his radar, he was just another handsy client.

The Scot glances towards the open door of the bathroom where Leila is standing in her bra and panties; spreading black liner around her big golden eyes. She's swaying in time to music coming from the stereo on the dresser and Chibs can't help but appreciate her cute little ass. She's wearing bright blue lace and he loves the contrast of the fabric against the feminine pinks and reds of her back piece. She's a fine looking woman, all tight limbed and hippy; he's lucky to have her. He's got seven birthdays on the girl and he has no doubt it'll only be a few years before he's forced to beat back the younger men with a stick. Thought at almost 28, he doesn't feel like he's doing too bad for himself, the boxing keeps him in shape and she's never complained.

"What's got you so down?" Smith is the farthest thing from Chibs' mind when Leila drifts back into the bedroom. His eyes catch on her chest and he makes a noise in the back of his throat when he realizes the cups of the bra are completely see through. Her pert little breasts are exposed for his enjoyment.

"Nothing now darlin." He pulls her down into his lap and she laughs, pushing messy curls over one shoulder.

"I'm sorry about today at the shop, with the tattoo I mean." She's got such a vulnerable look on her face he can't be mad. He knows she's not near ready to be a real old lady. Leila may have agreed to stay nine months before but Chibs isn't stupid, he knows she's just one panic away from running again. It's like walking a tightrope trying to control her jackrabbit instincts. He's had to develop better balance.

"Not a big deal pet, I know yeh'll get there eventually and I'm here until yeh do. It was just so nice to see yeh considering it." He can be understanding about this for as long as she needs. After all, it's not like he doesn't have his own set of skeletons that still need to come out of the closet. The closer he gets to Leila the heavier Fiona and Kerrianne weigh on him. He'll have to tell the woman in his lap about his wife eventually, he just wants to wait until he's sure she's not looking for a way out.

"If you want, I'll make it up to you. Maybe we could pick up where Tig made us leave off." The offer is tempting and when she presses her lips against his neck he almost gives in but they can't be late to this dinner. He's got things to discuss with the boys.

"I'll have to take yeh up on that when we get home lass, Gemma will kill us both if we're late." Leila rolls her eyes but she climbs off his lap and starts to tug a pair of dark jeans up her legs. He watches in unabashed interest as she jumps a few times to get the form fitting denim over her hips and then pulls on the black off the shoulder sweater he loves. He'd been amazed the first time she'd worn it at how easy it was to just pull down and off. Easy access was always better.

"Bike or Chevelle?" She's staring at her pile of shoes, and he knows she's asking whether or not she needs to wear boots instead of something fashionable. He'd been amazed when they'd moved her back from Salt Lake at just how much clothing and other girly shit she had. The Leila he'd gotten to know at the end of the Mayan war had been living out of a duffle bag, he liked that she had a feminine side. His Leila-Luv was a mess of surprises.

"Bike." As much as he liked her cute little shoes there was still nothing hotter than a woman in riding boots. She smiles at him knowingly over her shoulder and pulls the knee-high boots out of the mess.

"You're so predictable. You know I could wear these even if we took the car." She sits down on the end of the bed next to him to pull the leathers on and he presses a kiss into her head.

"I like yeh on my bike." He really really did.

The ride over was quick as Chibs took every turn at a screaming speed. He knew Leila hated it when he laid the corners so flat his boots scuffed the road but he loved the way she clung to him. Her arms tight around his chest, her thighs gripping his as she made her displeasure known by bumping her helmeted head into his back.

The house was half full when they arrived and Chibs waited his turn to hug Gemma in welcome. The MC mama pulled him in as soon as she'd released Leila a conspiratory "I made bangers and mash," whispered in his ear. Gemma was very aware of the cooking situation at the apartment and often took pity on him with leftovers at the garage. Chibs watched Leila drift off to the kitchen before getting himself a beer from one of the iced buckets left out in the great room, settling himself on the sofa next to Bobby. There was a pay-per-view fight on tonight and Clay had promised the boys he'd order it.

"How's it going brother?" Bobby claps him on the shoulder as he speaks. "I heard there was some trouble at the shop today." For a moment Chibs thinks he's talking about the thing with Smith and he wonders how that nonsense ended up on club radar.

"What?"

"Tig's in a fit about you fucking the girl in the office while he was outside?" Jesus Christ, Chibs knows he and Tig are going to have to have a talk at some point. This fatherly disapproval shit was getting old.

"I didn't fuck her. Tig's overreacting." Bobby chuckles at that.

"I'm sure he is brother, but she's his baby girl. So even if you didn't fuck her I assume things are going well? She gonna take the crow?" Chibs doesn't know when his love life became such public knowledge but he's well aware that Bobby thinks of Leila as a niece so he tries to answer as best he can.

"We haven't really gotten that sorted yet. Things are good though." Bobby chuckles again.

"Look at that, they're all a sucker for a baby belly." Chibs follows the older man's line of sight into the kitchen and he feels his heart freeze up just a bit. Donna, now six months pregnant with she and Ope's second baby is standing in the middle of the group of gossiping women. Her pregnant belly had just "popped" as Leila put it, a month before and she is more than glowing. Chibs scans the small crowd and finds Leila towards the back; she's leaning against the kitchen island a beer in one hand staring pointedly at Donna's stomach. "Leila's going to be wanting one of those soon."

Bobby's words draw Chibs out of his daze and he glances at his brother. He's is well aware that most of SAMCRO doesn't know the full aftermath of Leila's shooting almost four years before but the Scot's well acquainted with the details. Chibs had woken Leila from more than one night terror over the last few months and he'd certainly held her while she cried over her lack of reproductive abilities. For the most part Leila was outwardly optimistic about the whole thing. She often quipped that it just meant they didn't have to use protection and her complete lack of uterus or ovaries meant he never went wanting for a week of female bleeding but he knew the loss cut her deep.

"Aye, maybe."

Dinner was a warm affair and they all sat around Gemma and Clay's giant table passing overloaded dishes of food. Leila sits beside him gossiping with the blonde Jax brought but Chibs doesn't miss the way her gold eyes keep cutting back to the smiling Donna at the end of the table. He waits until Piney is at the end of a dirty joke and the entire table is laughing to lean over and whisper in her ear.

"Yeh alright there darlin?" Leila looks at him confused until he nods down to the pregnant woman and he watches as her eyes close off.

"I'm fine. I'm just happy for them." Chibs slides his hand onto her thigh under the table and squeezes softly. She smiles up at him weakly and then shoves a huge bite of mashed potatoes in her mouth, pointedly turning away from his offer of comfort. The girl loved to ignore a hurt, he knew he'd have to push her into dealing with this newest issue at some point but he puts it away for now. She'd make a good mother one day and he can't help but imagine what she would look like with her own swollen belly, but there's no point brooding on what can't happen.

The dinner ends on a laugh courtesy of Juice and Leila jumps up to help clear the table. Chibs watches her go with a smile. She never used to participate in any part of the dinners but since Gemma had discovered her complete lack of skill in the kitchen she'd made it law that Leila at least help with the dishes. Chibs had had to listen to that bitch fest for over a week and he was glad his girl had finally settled into the role with some grace.

He's just getting up to grab another beer and maybe something a bit harder when Jax catches his attention with a nod from the dining room door. So it's time is it. Abandoning the original plan, Chibs follows the younger man through the house and out onto the large back patio. Clay, Tig, Bobby, Juice and Ope are already gathered around the big wrought iron table like they're in chapel and Chibs takes his usual seat next to Tig.

"So how much fallout are we looking at here?" Clay doesn't bother with niceties just jumping into the problem at hand.

"We don't really know yet." Ope looks serious as he takes a drag from his smoke. "It was an accident and we got rid of the body but they know he was with us last. We could be looking at fucking disaster." There's a grumble from Bobby.

"What would the Irish do if they found out?" All eyes turn to Chibs at Bobby's question and the Scot doesn't really need to think about his answer.

"They'd come looking for retaliation. Mistake or not Charlie Flanagan was the son of a king and his death will leave a lot to be answered for." Chibs' mind acts without permission drawing up images of Leila, wide eyed and dead with a bloody cross painted on her forehead. He can't stop the shiver that goes through him. "If they find out we're fucked."

"Then we probably shouldn't have fucking killed him." Tig's voice is full of accusation and Chibs glances at him with hard eyes.

"Don't start that shit again," Jax jumps into the conversation before things get out of hand. "We did enough shouting last week, it's time to stop placing blame and come up with a solution."

"A solution to what exactly, our imminent Irish executions?" Bobby ever the humorous realist.

"No," Jax snaps back, "the fact that we accidentally killed a Real IRA rep."

"You and Chibs killed you mean." Tig is really looking to get a fist to the face today and Chibs is getting closer to complying.

"The club killed." Clay chooses the heated moment to jump in with his usual stern voice. "We may not have taken a vote but we all saw what happened. It was an accident. We'll deal with the fallout if it comes. In the meantime we lay low and keep this quiet. I'll get in touch with McKeavey and try to find out if the Irish even miss their man."

There are noises of assent from all the men assembled and they wrap things up just in time for Gemma to come out and tell them desert is ready. Chibs, however, has no appetite but he follows everyone in regardless. He presses a kiss to Leila's head when she hands him a plate of pie and settles in to wait patiently until the other shoe drops.

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**And there's another mini cliffhanger for you...**

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**Thanks for reading. **


	5. Chapter 5

***I do not own anything you recognize* **

**I want to thank everyone who reviewed on the last chapter. I really appreciate the love. **

**I hope you all enjoy.**

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She's working in the sun filled studio of the apartment when the tattoo idea occurs to her. She's just starting the finishing touches on a painting she's been working on for week. Clay had laughed at her when she asked for the picture but she has no doubt he'll like the finished project. The 2'x4' canvas has a stormy blue background and in the foreground, larger than life, are Clay's hands, pressed together as if in prayer.

The hands of SAMCRO had always fascinated Leila, and maybe she had a bit of a fucked up fetish but really she felt like their hands told a story. They all had killer's hands, scarred and full of rings; they use their hands to fix cars, bring pain, and murder but she knows from experience they can also use them to bring pleasure and offer comfort. She feels like they represent the hypocrisy of the MC to its fullest extent. Leila steps back from the canvas for a moment chewing on the end of her paintbrush, she must be getting a bit too bored with the normalcy of the recent months to have had so much time to think about this. She likes the painting all the same.

She'd chosen Clay as the first subject because he was the oldest, had the most history, and his arthritis made his fingers curl in a way that she thought told a story. It's a story she doesn't know. Leila is still uneasy around the president and while she'll hug him at family dinners and they'd developed a mostly friendly relationship, he still has a coldness that she will never be comfortable with.

The tattoo idea is another thing entirely. It's bold and a little bit trashy but so is she on occasion. If she does things right it might be just what she needs to convince Chibs she's serious without taking his damn crow. It's been a week since the day in the shop when he found her modeling tracing paper and the Scot has been distant. Not enough to be noticeable to anyone outside their relationship but enough that Leila is more than aware something is wrong. She feels like they're back to that confusing stage nine months ago when she didn't know what they were or what he wanted.

She knows whatever he feels for her is starting to verge on love or maybe just complete possession even if neither of them is willing to say it. Leila has her shit together now but she still sometimes feels like little girl lost when it comes to relationships. For the most part the Scot seems understanding and he's certainly never pressured her, even now he hasn't brought up the issue again but she can tell. She saw the way he looked at her at Gemma's when all the women were gathered around Donna and her large baby belly. Donna was ripe with the swell of new life and Leila knew how pathetic she looked by comparison with her concave stomach. Taking his crow would be tantamount to marrying him and Leila has heard the childhood rhyme, she knows what's expected next. "First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby carriage," she barely knows if she's capable of the first part and she knows she'll never give anyone the last bit so what's the use of trying.

She drops the paintbrush and heads for their room. Chibs had been out late the night before with the MC and he's still in bed. He's on his stomach, one arm thrown up over his head to keep the morning light out of his eyes. She watches him from the doorway for a moment, taking in how out of place he looks under her purple duvet, his hair is getting longer and the half finished reaper tat she'd been inking into his shoulder during her spare time makes him look rough.

"I need your hands." She crawls onto the bed with him paper and pencil in hand.

"Of course yeh do darlin, bring that body over here." His voice is raspy with sleep and he doesn't open his eyes as he reaches out trying to grope at her chest.

"No, Chibs I need to trace them." One brown eye opens in annoyance and he scowls up at her.

"Yer telling me yeh woke me up at this ungodly hour not to fuck." She forces herself not to smile at his indignant tone and pokes him in the side with the pencil.

"Yep, now stick em up outlaw, I have work to do." He rolls his eyes but he offers up the appendages all the same and she makes quick work of setting them to the page. "Thanks, you can go back to sleep." She starts to go but one strong arm snakes out to grab her around the waist.

"Not so fast, I've done what I was asked. Now I get a reward." He pulls her down against him and his lips are already on her neck, one of the offending hands sliding up under her shirt to trace patterns across her stomach.

"Oh I see how it is. I'm the only one in this house bringing home legitimate money but you want to keep me in bed when I should be working." He snorts into her hair.

"Just for that I'm gonna make yeh beg for it." She drops the paper to the floor as he rolls on top of her; his smile is devious.

"Is that so?" He nods into her chest and his fingers are already tugging at the strings on her sleep pants.

She was more than begging before the end.

* * *

Church was called for 11 that morning and Chibs slid into his seat just in time. He should have known better than to get Leila started that early in the day. The horny bit had kept him more than occupied for so long he'd had to rush to Teller Morrow to make the meeting. If the look on Clay's face is anything go by, he's lucky he wasn't late.

The last week had been stressful as they all tried to figure out how much the Irish knew or didn't know about what happened on the run and it was getting to him. Chibs knew he'd been a bit distant at home and he hoped Leila hadn't noticed but there wasn't a lot he could do to explain it. Until they knew what they were facing there's really no point in trying.

Chibs lets his eyes wander around the room, attempting to get a feel for the rest of his brothers. They all look tired, stressed. SAMCRO had a long-standing relationship with the Irish; it was the whole reason Chibs had patched over from SAMBEL more than three years ago. He was meant to be the go between, his old IRA roots making him the perfect brother to keep the relationship alive. He knew how the IRA worked on the inside and even though he'd been excommunicated and had his family stolen they hadn't been able to take back the knowledge. It was what kept him alive in the end, his usefulness as a pawn in their larger game.

"Okay, called to order." Clay bangs the gavel down and the room quiets for updates and news. "New business?"

"There's a charity run next weekend we can use to get our current shipment up the coast. Kid's autism, its a good cause." Piney offers up this information with his usual bluntness.

"Good, good." Clay agrees even as there are nods around the table.

"My mom thought I was autistic once, it'll be good to help out." Juice's comment sparks up the expected laughter and the younger man ducks his head, "What? I'm not."

"Sure you're not." Bobby sounds indulgent if not reassuring but Chibs can't really bring himself to join in the fun. He's waiting for what he knows will come at the end of this meeting. Irish news.

"Finances?" Clay moves them on.

"We've got 200k in the safe but we're going to need it to make the next gun payment. Leila's shop is still brining in about three grand a week half of that is ours." Bobby lays out the finances and Chibs can't help the small burst of pride over how well his girl is doing.

"We need to talk about Leila." Happy pipes up from the outside edge of the room. As a nomad he can't sit at the table but he's there for every meeting and is welcome to bring up news.

"What's our favorite bit of trouble up to now?" Clay sounds un-amused and Chibs feels his temper flare.

"She's got this guy keeps coming into the shop, creeps her out. He almost hit her the other day." Happy's voice is low and Chibs wonders why he's bringing up the Smith bastard, Leila said she had it handled.

"You two know about this?" Clay has turned his attention to he and Tig and Chibs nods slowly.

"Aye, we were there. It got a bit out of control. She made him bleed, wasn't feeling well she said. Seemed like it ended okay." She hadn't brought up Smith again since the incident and aside from the guy's over the top reaction Chibs had let it go.

"His name's Kevin Smith," Happy starts up again and Chibs wants to know where the nomad gets off being so wrapped up in his girl's business.

"He's a joke Clay," Tig jumps into the fray, "clean cut bastard, has some creepy eyes but kitten can handle herself. She's a big girl, we have other _issues_." Chibs cuts his eyes at the Sergeant at arms but nods in agreement; they do have bigger issues.

"Right. Hap take care of it if it becomes a problem, in the meantime I'm sure you're all waiting for news from the emerald isle." Chibs glances down the table to see Happy nodding in agreement and he feels a surge of jealousy at the idea of the nomad taking care of things for Leila but Clay's still talking and the threat of Irish retaliation looms larger.

"I've been talking to our little green friends," Clay starts up again and Chibs can tell from the tone of his voice the news is not good. "They are very aware that Flanagan is missing although they don't know why or how yet. They do know we were the last to see him and they want to set up a meet." There's a rumbled chorus of disagreement around the table and Chibs can feel his heart hammering in his chest. "It's a friendly thing for now," Clay makes an attempt at reassuring, "but I'm sure they'll have some questions."

"I'll go." Jax speaks up instantly and Chibs nods in agreement.

"Aye, we should both go. We started the mess." If the Irish are going to kill him he'd rather face the slaughter.

"No," Clay's voice brooks no argument, "Tig and I will take the meeting anything else would look suspicious and McKeavey wasn't playing when he said they don't know where Flanagan is. We've got to pick up the next shipment in two days anyways." Tig is nodding in agreement and Chibs doesn't miss the sly smile on his face.

"Wouldn't want you two accidentally killing McKeavey." Chibs hates the smug look on the other man's face.

"Vote?" Clay calls the vote to order before Chibs even has a chance to get riled up over Tig's comment and the motion passes without a problem. The gavel slams down and they're released.

"Do yeh have a fucking problem." He knows picking a fight with Tig is the last thing he should be doing right now but the man had been getting on his last nerve.

"I do actually." The rest of the men are filing out of the room but Clay and Jax have remained in their seats. Chibs has no doubt it's to break up whatever is brewing here.

"Oh aye, and what's that?" Tig has that wild look in his eyes.

"Rumor is you're trying to slap your damn crow on my baby girl and now we find out from Happy you're doing a shit job protecting her from this Smith asshole. That's my problem." Chibs slams his hand down on the table with so much force he feels the redwood quake.

"So yer her Da when yeh want to be huh? Yeh were there in the shop the other day too, we were both distracted. Why aren't yeh protecting her from all this shite?" He refuses to be told he's a bad, whatever he is to Leila, by the man who should have a world's worst dad mug.

"I'm always her dad you fucking foreign bastard and I warned you away nine months ago but you don't fucking listen." Tig's on his feet and Chibs is just rising from his chair waiting for the real fight to start when Jax is suddenly between them.

"Enough. You're both being idiots." The younger man slams a hand into Chibs' chest and the Scot can feel his hands clenching and unclenching into fists. Tig just looks triumphant at the reaction.

"Agreed," all eyes turn to Clay and the president looks more than annoyed as he runs a hand down his face. "We all, _like_ Leila, but she's been a distraction to this club before and it's only caused trouble. She's not a member and she's not an old lady so until someone does 'slap' a crow on her she's going to have to handle herself. I don't want to hear anymore about this shit from you two, we have too much going on to be distracted by pussy." Clay is interrupted by an angry noise from Tig, "no matter how it might be related to us. Understand?"

There is nothing to do here but nod in assent and move on but Chibs can't help the way his shoulder bumps against Tig violently on his way out of the room. Fucking bastard.

* * *

She's on her way home from the shop when she decides she might try and actually make some dinner. Chibs has been so stressed recently and then he'd been so sweet that morning in bed she thinks the Scot does deserve a bit of a reward. Leila doesn't have any false hopes about her abilities in the kitchen so she just stops in at the local market and picks up a frozen lasagna, salad and bread. She's barely been in the store ten minutes when she drifts back out to the Chevelle already trying to decide if she should be naked or clothed while she cooks, the Scot loves when she attempts household chores naked.

The envelope is under the driver's side windshield wiper and for a moment she thinks maybe she parked in the handicapped spot by mistake and got another ticket, but no this envelope is unmarked. She drops the groceries in the back and pulls it out, working the seal with already nervous fingers. There's only one thing inside, a picture. It's like the other, taken with a long distance lens, the image is grainy but it's most certainly her. Her painting, her through the big, un-curtained windows of the sunroom off the apartment. Leila feels the air rush out of her lungs and she turns the photo over with shaking hands. On the back, scrawled in the same messy writing as before is a note, 'You look so pretty when you paint, love K.' She has to hold herself up with the car and her eyes are immediately scanning the grocery store parking lot. She'd only been inside ten minutes, he had to have followed her, he had to still be here.

_He had to still be here_. The thought bounces around in her brain as she climbs unsteadily into the driver's seat. She lunges for the glove box coming up with the little Baretta she keeps there. With the gun on the passenger seat she starts up the car and begins the short ride home, forcing herself to take deep calming breaths. She could handle this.

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**More in a day or so. In the meantime if you're bored there's a ton of new stuff at The Wayward Sons. Courtesy requests by K. Holtzman and Wishuy. If you have your own request let me know. **

**Reviews are always welcome, loved, and cherished but thanks for reading either way. **


	6. Chapter 6

**So thanks for all the reviews and love on this story. Things are going to get dark for awhile here but I hope you enjoy. **

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"Is it a stupid idea?" It is the day after she found the second picture on her car and Leila is in the back office of Reaper Ink with Happy. It's after hours and they're both sorting through current and upcoming projects for next week. The nomad is taciturn by nature and Leila often made up for the silence by talking at him during their office hours.

"It's not a stupid idea. I'd get turned on by it." Happy doesn't look up from his appointment book and she can tell from the scowl on his face he's trying to rearrange the booked clients around a run for the club.

"So should I do it or is it too far? Do you think he'll get that its not meant to replace the crow, just be a stop gap until we're there?" Leila had been pestering Happy with similar questions for the last thirty minutes and she was pretty sure the hit man was growing tired of the female psychology. She was growing tired of it too but she would do anything to push Kevin Smith from her mind.

"Do all girls think about shit this much?" She considers the question for a moment.

"Yes, yes we do. We are desperate to understand your small but very complicated minds." Happy wrinkles up his nose at this explanation.

"You know men aren't that complicated right. Especially MC men." He has completely abandoned his workbook at this point and is just staring at her.

"Do you think he'll like it though?" Leila can't help the whine in her voice and she's instantly amused at the annoyance spreading across his face.

"You're being ridiculous, any man would love the idea of his hands permanently on your hips." Hap gives her a smile that makes it clear he wouldn't mind it being his hands.

"What if we break up?" She can't help the question, as it's one she's been worrying over recently. Chibs had come home drunk the night before and passed out on the sofa. It was one of the few nights he hadn't slept in their bed and between that and his recent distance she's worried he's getting tired of her.

"I'm going to get the ink and we're just going to do this now." Happy stands and starts to move around her towards the door. She catches at his arm just as he passes.

"Seriously Hap, what if he breaks up with me?"

"Then you'll have an instruction manual for the next guy." His voice is tinged with frustration but his eyes are unusually soft and she just nods.

"Okay, let's do it."

It's just an outline so it doesn't take long and when Happy lets her off the table to examine his work, Leila is surprised at how pleased she is with the final result. The handprints are set low on her hips and turned so that they're positioned the way they would be if Chibs was holding her from behind. Fingers spread across the edges of her pelvic bones and upper thighs, palms and thumbs wrapping around the sides. It may be because the sites are still raised and red but with the dark ink drawing all her attention she doesn't even notice the scar on her hip. It's certainly the first time that's ever happened.

"Let me check something, just in case." Happy's voice is guarded and she knows what he's going to get when he heads towards the back room. Sure enough the nomad emerges with the crow design in his hands. He makes her stand still with a stern look as he kneels in front of her and puts the paper up to her hips settling it between the new ink. It's a perfect fit. "Okay." He glances up at her frustrated face.

"I haven't said I'm going to get that yet." The hand prints are one thing, because if Leila is honest she'll admit no man has ever owned her body the way the Scot has but his crow would mean giving him her heart and she's just not ready.

"I didn't say you had to. I just wanted to make sure all that work wasn't wasted." Happy pulls himself up and sets the design aside. "Now get back on the table so I can wrap you up."

"He's going to like it right?" She feels like it's her first day of school, or maybe the moments before a first date. Leila is pretty sure she's never been this nervous about a man's approval before. Even Tig's sometimes-fatherly acceptance hadn't gotten her heart racing so fast. It's definitely a change.

"You're fucking stupid." Happy's answer feels like a summation of her entire life. "Go cook him something and take your clothes off. I'm tired of pretending to be your girlfriend." She rolls her eyes at the killer but has no problem following orders. "If he doesn't like it I'll make something cool out of them." The killer offers her a rare smile and she nods, still nervous.

"Okay."

* * *

Chibs is watching TV in the living room when she gets back to the apartment. She can tell by the slump of his shoulders and lack of shirt he hadn't moved all day. He's got a beer in one hand and three empties are on the floor near his feet. Leila's immediate concern is illness, she's never known the Scot to get so much as a head cold but she can think of no other reason for him to have skipped out on work at the garage. He'd stayed home before certainly, but that was usually when she begged him to play hooky for a day of fun around the house.

"You okay?" She drops her bag by the door and starts towards the sofa, her hand already outstretched to check for a fever. She has no idea what a fever would feel like but she remembers her mother gauging temperature this way and it seems to be the right thing to do.

"Fine." He ducks his head to the side and she drops her hand, trying to search his face for signs of anything that could provide a clue.

"Did you stay home sick?" He just shakes his head in response and leans around her to see the TV better. Fine. "I've got frozen something I can try to heat up for dinner." Maybe she hasn't been feeding him right, she doesn't know what Scottish people usually eat but she bets it's not frozen Italian dinners. Leila wonders when she started thinking about him like something she _has_ to care for. If he wanted different food he would have gone and gotten it.

"Ordered pizza." Okay, so apparently the problem isn't Italian food.

"Did something happen at the garage? With the club?" Leila can feel herself desperate to get more than two words out of him. They've never been like this. She's the one that falls apart and he's the one that puts her back together. This broken Chibs is terrifying.

"Everything's fine lass." His eyes don't leave the TV but he makes an effort to soften his voice. She can deal with this; there are things she can do to fix this.

"I've got something that might cheer you up." She tries to sound excited but there's a twinge of panic to her voice that she can't hide. She sounds more than a bit manic.

"Okay then." He spares her a quick glance and there's something in his eyes Leila can't quite place but then they're trained on the TV again and she gives up.

"Close your eyes." He rolls them first but complies. He looks pissed. For a moment she pauses and thinks maybe she should just retreat to their room and leave it for another day but she's never backed down from a fight before. With a deep breath to calm her nerves she pulls her shirt over her head and quickly undoes the snap on her jeans, pushing them down her hips enough for the new ink to be visible. She's careful not to pull any ink when she removes the wrappings and with one last glance at his face, "okay, open them."

His familiar brown eyes settle on hers and she watches as they slowly move down her body, confusion written all over his face at her state of undress. There's the usual arousal in the way his irises dilate just a bit and then they settle on her hips and she sees them widen. There's a flash of something, grief or fear maybe and then he looks back to her face.

"What have yeh done?" There's no excitement in his voice, only anger and it's her worst nightmare.

* * *

Chibs watches her pretty face fall and immediately feels like an ass. He knows the answer to the question and deep down he's excited, even a bit aroused at the sight of his hands permanently tattooed into place on those glorious little hips but in the forefront of his mind all he can see is danger.

He'd been a disaster since church the morning before. The reality of what would happen if the Irish found out what happened to Flanagan had been slowly settling in over the last 36 hours and it had certainly reached a fever pitch the night before. Since the minute the image had first popped into his mind Chibs hadn't been able to stop seeing her dead. She was dead in the kitchen from a gunshot wound. She was dead in an alley, knife in her stomach. She was dead in the shop, her throat slit. She was dead in their bed. She was dead in the Chevelle. She was dying in his arms and his five months of medic training couldn't even begin to save her.

The unending trail of images combined with Tig's dig about not being able to protect her had settled into his very bones. It had driven him to drink the night before and when he'd woken up that morning on the sofa it had made it impossible for him to leave. He loved her and his stupidity was going to kill her. Maybe not this time, but eventually. He'd already had one family stolen and he knew he couldn't do it again.

It was around three in the afternoon that he finally found a way out. Really, he'd thought, she wasn't his to lose. She refused to take his crow, he was living with her but he kept a dorm at the clubhouse. She was his girlfriend; nothing else and girlfriends were easy to break up with. All he had to do was push her away and with Leila's trigger instincts it wouldn't be hard. Better yet, the Irish would have no proof that she'd ever been his. She had no identifying marks; not a single tat that showed any affiliation to a specific member of the club. Even if they drew her police record they'd only find the one weapons charge and he hadn't been involved in that particular incident. He could let her go, she would flee and then she'd be safe.

It was around the time he'd made up his mind that he'd started drinking again and when she'd come bouncing into the house so full of concern he hadn't been able to look at her face. And now; now this. He turns his full attention to the woman still standing before him, she's in nothing but a black bra, her jeans pushed down and the black outlines of his hands are stark against the pale skin of her previously unadorned front. He's dying to reach out and grab her, turn her around, and line his fingers up with the ink. A day ago he would have, a day ago he would have had her bent over the nearest piece of furniture hard at just the sight. Today all he can see is the Irish taking careful measurements to confirm those digits are his. Today all he can see is blood.

"Yeh shouldn't have done that lass." He speaks softly and it takes an unimaginable amount of control to keep his voice from breaking.

"You're the one that wanted to mark me. I thought this would be a decent compromise." There's anger in her snappish tone but Chibs can see the hurt in her eyes. Maybe this is what he needs to push her out of the line of fire.

"I'm not so sure about that anymore. Something happened on the run, I should have told yeh days ago." It's not the whole truth but he knows how she'll take the words. He's not stupid, he's seen the way she panics every time he comes home from a run. He knows what she expects from him and he'll use it to his advantage if he can.

"Right." Leila takes the bait and he can't help but feel relieved. Her eyes are furious as she pulls up the jeans and she snatches the shirt up off the floor. "Get out."

"Aye," there's no point arguing with what he wanted. He pulls himself up and not bothering to retrieve a shirt from the bedroom he takes his kutte from the hook by the door, grabs his keys and gun. He stops for a moment his hand on the doorknob, "I'm sorry luv."

"Get out." Her voice has a quiet anger to it that Chibs has never heard before but he can't bring himself to turn around.

He can just hear the first of her sobs as the door closes behind him.

* * *

**Sorry it's another cliff, I have a habit. **

**Reviews are always welcome and greatly appreciated but thanks for reading either way. **

**Oh and Guest, whoever you are, I'm working on the request you made in your last review. Look for it sometime this week. **


	7. Chapter 7

***I do not own anything you recognize***

**I want to thank everyone who reviewed and read the last chapter, you guys are awesome. I don't really have anything else for you, so enjoy. **

* * *

Bastard. He's a fucking goddamned asshole Scottish bastard. Sure she'd been sad at the house, she'd sobbed for a bit and generally felt sorry for herself but now Leila's just fucking mad as hell. She'd stood there in front of him and it had been like baring her soul and he'd just stared like he'd never seen her before. Maybe he hadn't. They'd started the whole relationship in a moment of crisis, she'd been lost, scared, betrayed and he'd been a blanket of comfort she could sink into. She can still remember the first night she crawled into bed with him, crying and pathetic.

Now it's almost a year later and she's not the same girl anymore. Gemma told her not to stay for a man and she hadn't. She'd stayed because for the three years she was in Salt Lake she'd been playing a part and in Charming she could let the walls drop. Leila Trager was a woman grown, she was a woman with her shit together and she didn't need fucking Filip Telford to keep her going. She was the daughter of a killer and a strong clubwoman; Leila could take on anything.

She's been driving aimlessly for thirty minutes now, no idea where to go, no idea what to do. She doesn't plan to leave but she knew she couldn't stay in the apartment and stew so she'd hit the road and gotten angry. She turns onto Gemma and Clay's street on instinct, there's no one who can handle an angry woman better than Gemma and Leila is intent on a stiff drink and a long talk with the sometimes mother.

She parks the car in the drive, noticing the missing dyna and is reassured that she won't have to deal with Clay this evening. Her boots are loud as she stomps up the door and she presses the doorbell until Gemma appears in the side window.

"Leila? What's going on baby?" Gemma is already in a silk robe and pajamas and as Leila looks up at her strong face all the resolve she'd spent the last half hour developing cracks.

"Hecheatedonme." The words come out in a rush and she is immediately embarrassed by the sob and tears the accompany them.

"Jesus Christ. Come in." Gemma stands aside and Leila has to duck under the taller woman's arm to get through the door. "Is it a tea or booze kinda night?"

"Booze." Gemma nods knowingly at the answer and Leila follows her like a puppy into the kitchen. She watches as the MC mama drifts around the kitchen getting glasses and bottle of something from a top shelf. Gemma nods to a chair and Leila settles herself, staring at the familiar kitchen. Only a few days ago she'd been in this kitchen feeling inadequate because she would never be able to provide the Scot with a baby. Now she feels inadequate because he'd told her she was. It's a harder hit.

"Here," Gemma is standing over her holding out a very full glass and a box of tissues. "Stop crying, we don't cry over pussy." Trust Gemma to make things crystal clear. Leila nods.

"I was mad, I really was. I mean I was furious in the car but it all just…left." The older woman nods and sits down across the table with her own drink.

"Okay." Gemma's voice is firm, "I'll give you a pass this once since you're the only bitch I know I've never had to have one of these talks with. What happened?" Leila almost snorts out loud at that but doesn't argue.

"I really don't know." She doesn't, things had been going so well and then this last week he'd changed. He'd turned her down in bed, he'd stopped talking, there were no more flirty jokes, and no more hands in inappropriate places. It had been like living with a stranger. She supposes that's what happens when men cheat.

"Okay well I don't mean in the deeper sense, what happened tonight." Gemma is observing her astutely over the rim of her glass.

"Right, so I," Leila tries to decide where to start. She tries again, "he's been on me recently to take his crow, be his old lady." Gemma nods. "I told him I wasn't ready but then I had this idea, I thought it would be a good in between. So I just went ahead and did it." Leila takes a sip of the whiskey in front of her and makes a face at the burn.

"What'd you do?" Gemma looks more than a little curious when Leila stands up instead of answering. Showing is always better than telling. She pulls up her shirt and undoes her jeans. She hadn't bothered to rewrap after the fight and the red-rimmed ink is clear against her pale abdomen. "Christ, are those his?"

"Yea." She rearranges her clothes and sits back down. "Stupid right?" She hates that she's desperate for the other woman's opinion.

"Not really," Gemma's voice is honest and Leila doesn't know what to make of it. "Don't let Clay see those, he'll have me on your table in a minute," she takes a sip of her drink and continues, "it's a," Leila can tell she's searching for a word, "bold move, sexy as hell. How does this get around to him cheating on you, he certainly didn't see that and then go out for something different."

"I have no idea." Leila feels like she's been saying that a lot recently. "I got home and he was drunk, seemed upset. I thought it would cheer him up but he just looked at me like, like he was scared of me or something. Then he told me I shouldn't have done it, said something had happened on the run that had him thinking he didn't want me anymore." Leila is proud when he voice doesn't break on the retelling but she can feel the anxiety building in her chest. She feels like an overfilled balloon and she wonders what will happen when she finally deflates.

"That's all he said? There was no actual mention of another woman?" Gemma looks incredulous and Leila ducks her head for another drink.

"Well no, but it was enough. I knew what he meant." She had hadn't she. Leila hadn't been able to see his eyes but she knew what he was telling her, she was certain of it.

"You're an idiot." Gemma has obviously been spending too much time with Piney. "There's something else going on here, you have your boot so far up that man's ass I'd be surprised if he takes a piss without thinking about how you'd feel about it."

"I do not!"

"You do, and everyone but you seems to know it. He's in love with you baby girl and you're in love with him even if you won't admit it. You're both idiots." Well that was certainly news.

"He's not in love with me, I'm pretty sure I'm more like property to him." Leila can feel the anger rising again but this time it's directed at the woman in front of her. She'd come here for some kind of group hate session and instead Gemma was defending the enemy.

"Listen to me little girl, that man is in love with you. Has been since the day you walked into the clubhouse nine months ago. I know you don't believe me and that's okay but it's making you dumb as shit and you know how I feel about stupid bitches." Leila did in fact know how Gemma felt about stupid bitches, she'd heard that hour long rant the first time Jax brought home the new blonde he was dating.

"But he said,"

"I know what you think he said," Gemma cuts her off, "but I'm telling you, you heard wrong. Chibs has lost too much in his life to throw away something as good as you." Leila lets that statement sink in and for a moment she wonders what Gemma's referring to but she pushes the thoughts aside. She will admit she knows very little about the Scot's past but it doesn't really matter anymore does it.

"So what now? If you think he's lying then there's something else going on, what do I do?" The question hangs in the air for a moment before Gemma answers and Leila knows the other woman is contemplating the ramifications for her and Clay. If there is something else going on it certainly has the potential to blow back on the entire club.

"Now, you go home and wait for your man." A simple answer.

"And if he did cheat on me?"

"Then you decide if you can live the life. What happens on a run stays on a run baby girl and if you can't handle that then your Daddy's right and you need to find yourself a man outside the MC." The idea of Tig being right about anything makes Leila's blood boil.

"Can I finish my drink?" Leila stares down at the now half empty glass and then looks back up at the queen.

"Of course, you want me to top that off?"

* * *

The clubhouse is busy although Chibs wouldn't call the crowd a party but there's more than enough going on to keep a man occupied. He needs to be occupied. When he first left the apartment he'd planned on riding around for a while to clear his head but it had soon become obvious that he'd had far too many beers for that to work.

He'd headed for the clubhouse on instinct, the call of free booze and a bed away from the woman he'd just destroyed too strong to resist. Now he is planted at the bar, very strong drink in hand trying to convince himself he'd done the right thing. He can still see her in his mind; she'd looked so small and broken when he'd left. It was such a contrast to the Leila he'd seen emerge over the last few months. He'd helped to build up a strong, happy woman and with just a few well-timed words he'd brought her back down. Tig's right he doesn't deserve her.

Chibs was well aware the Sergeant at Arms had been furious when he'd found them curled up in bed that first time. When things had escalated shortly before Christmas Tig had made it clear that he didn't approve. Chibs had ignored the passive aggressive protests and forged ahead. He honestly hadn't been able to help himself, there was just something about Leila that begged him to protect her. That's what he was doing now. He may have hurt her, he may have destroyed any chance he had to keep her, but he'd protected her. She would leave, she would flee Charming and then the Irish could kill him because she'd be safe. Chibs is just starting to get too comfortable with the morbid thought when he's interrupted.

"Didn't expect to see you here." Happy slides into the neighboring barstool and pours himself a shot from the nearby bottle.

"Why's that?" Chibs is not really in the mood for conversation.

"Have you seen Leila tonight?" The nomad's scratchy voice sounds just a bit too interested and everything suddenly settles into place. Happy would have done the tattoo; she would have talked about it with the fellow artist. The bald nomad would have been the one to put hands on Chibs' girl and lay the ink down. The anger boils up all over again.

"Nope, haven't seen her. Something wrong?" The Scot feels bad about the lie but he's not going to spread his personal disaster around for club consumption.

You should go find her man. I think she had something to show you." When Chibs makes no sign of moving the nomad just nods, claps him on the shoulder and walks away.

The Scot pushes himself away from the bar and heads outside for a smoke. The mid September air has just enough of a chill in it to work towards clearing his booze soaked mind and he settles himself back on the picnic table with a slight wobble. He needs to get his head clear if they're going to make it through this Irish nonsense. Tig and Clay have the in person meeting and new shipment pick up the next day and depending on how things go SAMCRO could find themselves in a lot of trouble.

Chibs has been in trouble with the Irish before, he knows they have no problem going after family and innocents. If they find out he and Jax are responsible for the death of Charlie Flanagan they're both going to have axes hanging over their heads.

"Hey Chibs," the soft voice that distracts him from this newest train of thought belongs to a very young girl he doesn't recognize. She can't be more than eighteen and her dirty blonde hair and big blue eyes both look fake.

"Go away." He hopes his tone leaves no room for argument.

Her bright red nails trail up the front of his kutte, apparently he was losing his edge with the croweaters. "I've never seen you here alone before. You usually have your lady with you." The girl is staring up at him from the bench of the picnic table and Chibs feels a stab of guilt over leaving his lady alone and sobbing.

"Don't have a lady. Go away." He has no idea how the croweater knows his name and he's pretty sure he's never had her before but he's not in the mood to talk. He's drunk and angry and he'd like to stay that way.

"Don't be such a spoilsport." Her voice is confident and she starts walking her fingers down his chest but there's suddenly something familiar about the hesitancy of her eyes. Her fingers hit the fly of his jeans and he glances back to her face. For a moment the questioning blue eyes go gold and Chibs just nods.

The girl doesn't need any other encouragement and before he has a chance to rethink his assent she moves, settling herself between his legs on the bench beneath him. Her fake nails click against the zipper on his jeans as she eases it down. Her hand is too big, and it's cold from the slight chill in the air but he takes another drag on his smoke and closes his eyes. It gets better after that and he barely thinks of Leila as he feels the unfamiliar lips wrap around his cock. It takes longer than usual for him to get fully aroused and the girl knows too many tricks. He's gotten too used to Leila's earnest but unpracticed attempts and when the croweater cups his balls her fingers are far too experienced.

A mouth is a mouth though and the wet heat has the desired effect. He feels numb to the orgasm in his booze soaked state but it happens all the same and the girl sucks him off with an ease that makes his stomach churn.

"What the fuck man." Chibs is just coming down from the after effects of the blow job, slowly becoming aware of the blonde's head still resting against the inside of his thigh when the voice breaks through his haze. His eyes snap open and he comes face to face with Tig. The Sergeant at Arms is standing stock still in the doorway of the clubhouse and since there are no excuses to make for this Chibs just meets his bright blue eyes and starts to do up his pants.

"Go away." He pushes the girl off the bench with a bit more force than strictly necessary and stands. The world spins for a moment and he has to reach out for the table to steady himself. When he glances back at the door Tig is gone and without a backwards glance for the woman who just sucked him off Chibs heads for his dorm. After tonight he won't have to pretend he's a good man.

* * *

**So, I hated writing this chapter. I felt like I was breaking all of my favorite playthings but there's still more to come so keep reading. **

**Oh, and because I've gotten several questions about it. Yes, I totally borrowed (stole) Tommy Flanagan and Charlie Hunnam's names for the dead Irish guy. Thought it would be a nice reference. **

**Reviews are always welcome but thanks for reading either way. **


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey all, so I want to start by thanking everyone who's reading and reviewing. It's been great to see all the reactions. I appreciate everyone of you. I know you're all mad at Chibs and frustrated with Leila but it's only going to get worse before it gets better. We're still inching into the big drama, so I hope you all enjoy. **

* * *

He stares out over the water of the marina and tries to decide what to do about last night. The Irish aren't due for another couple minutes but he and Clay had arrived to the meet early. It's a good thing too; Tig is distracted. Leila weighs heavily on his mind. He knows Clay would be mad if he knew how preoccupied his Sergeant at Arms is but there's nothing to be done to fix this wandering mind.

His baby girl had decided to stay nine months ago and Tig had allowed himself to be cautiously excited. He'd been happy for her when she'd left but he'd missed her and her seemingly permanent return seemed like a new chance for them. He could finally really try to be the father she deserved. It had gone well for a couple months, she moved into his old apartment and agreed not to ask questions when he needed to crash on the couch. They met up for lunch and they talked. He'd made an effort to know how things were going with her and the shop. He'd really felt like they were making progress towards a normal relationship. Then Chibs had happened.

Tig knew his girl had been fucking the Scot during the whole Jorge mess but he'd hoped it would come to close when the emotional turmoil did. He'd even been careful about not bringing it up during her first few months in town, he hadn't wanted to seem too overbearing or involved. Leila had gotten used to a certain amount of autonomy and Tig wanted to make sure she felt like she was keeping it in Charming. That had been his first mistake. The foreign _brother_ had moved right in to the gap Tig left and as far as the killer was concerned he'd completely taken advantage.

Leila hadn't managed to keep the whole affair so quiet that Tig was wholly shocked when she'd come to him asking if it was okay for the Scottish bastard to try living in the apartment with her. Though he'd still struggled with the decision. Tig didn't mind that they fucked, well not that much anyways. At least with the sex he understood what was going on, he could comprehend the need for a good lay. Living together was another thing entirely; living together implied feelings. Feelings implied attachment and attachment implied trapped. The last thing he wanted was for his girl to end up trapped in the cycle of SAMCRO. She'd seen enough of that shit already; he didn't want her to face anymore.

He'd _almost_ gotten used to the idea over the last five months and then he'd found that fucking college degree. He couldn't get the stupid piece of paper out of his head. She'd gone and made something of herself. He was proud when she was a well known tattoo artist but to find out she'd gone and gotten an education under her own volition was another thing entirely. It screamed of ambition, drive, and intelligence; all traits that made Leila a poor candidate for happiness in the MC life. Jax's high school girlfriend had been cut of a similar cloth and she'd run from SAMCRO as soon as she found her legs. Girls like that just couldn't cut the life. It's not a negative statement, just a true one.

Add to all these bubbling concerns the sight from the night before and the whole situation had explosive potential. Tig knew Leila was starting to develop serious feelings for the Scot, he wasn't deaf, he'd heard the talk. The killer was well aware the bastard had been pushing for Leila to take his crow and he knew Leila was considering. The whole idea made Tig's blood boil.

So far he'd been the only man to put a crow on the girl and that had been when she was a newborn, he didn't want anyone claiming his Kitten but he understood the drive. For the fucking Scot to throw all that away for a quick blow job in the clubhouse parking lot was disgusting and Tig was the master of disgusting. Sure, he'd done worse to other women but Leila wasn't other women, she was, well she wasn't his anymore but she was still special. The sergeant at arms had actually had to duck back into the building to keep from killing the traitorous foreigner but it had been too late, the image was burned into his brain. Now he just had to figure out how to break his baby's heart one more time so she could go live up to her potential. It was the only certainty, if the Scot wasn't going to tell her, Tig would. He lets out a frustrated sigh; maybe it's better if he's the bad guy, Leila had never expected anything better of him.

"Tigger?" Clay's voice sounds hard from behind him, "You actually here brother? Cause we need to be on point for this meet."

"I'm here, sorry. Had a long night." He's a million miles away but he forces himself back to the moment.

"Good because our little friends have arrived." Tig follows the line of Clay's eyes and watches as the black sedan pulls into the parking lot of the marina.

"Got it." The sight of an armed Irish bodyguard snaps Tig back into business mode. He feels like he's cleaning up after the Scot left and right today.

"Gentlemen," Clay has his arms spread and his friendly smile on. The Irish look dark.

"Clay." McKeavey speaks first and Tig knows the other two are just there as muscle. They, like him, have little purpose beyond intimidation.

"I don't see our usual boat in the harbor." Clay's voice holds a bit more edge with this comment. The missing gun ship had been the first thing the president had noticed as they'd arrived at the marina half an hour before.

"We have a problem." McKeavey's face doesn't betray a thing. "Our man Flanagan finally turned up and we've got a federal tail." The worst news they could have gotten, Tig feels his own shoulders tighten even as Clay's smile falls.

"You think they're connected?" Clay's face has gone stony and Tig has to appreciate the lack of guilt there, they both know what happened to the other Irishman.

"We know he's dead." To his credit McKeavey looks a bit torn up about the news. "His body was found up north this morning, full of lead. You or your boys know anything about that? You were the last to see him alive."

"I'm sorry to hear that, he was alive and well when he left our company last week." Tig just nods his assent, eyes scanning the parking lot for signs of the tail. "How hard are the feds leaning?" Clay seems to have the same concerns.

"Well, they're across the street now, dark blue sedan, two blocks left. It's why we couldn't bring in the merchandise. To be honest my bosses are very concerned about the Flanagan situation, add the feds to the mix and SAMCRO might be dry until we've got this all figured out." More bad news.

Tig lets his eyes wander to the dark blue car just visible past the Marina fence. Feds and a dead Irish mean danger. He needs to make sure Leila gets clear before things go any further south. He waits patiently while Clay wraps up with McKeavey, there are promises made to look into the Flanagan murder on both sides and then the accented pricks are getting back into their car.

"Do you think they believed us?" He waits until the black sedan is making a right out of the lot before posing the question. Clay just cuts his eyes and scoffs.

"McKeavey? That green bastard doesn't believe a word and neither will the kings. We need to find someone to pin the Flanagan mess on and fast." Tig just nods, he knows this task will be his.

"And the feds?"

"They're a problem but not an unfamiliar one. We'll deal with it as it comes." Clay runs a hand through his short hair, "Goddamn, this is complete shit." The outburst is not the first of it's kind since the run the week before and Tig keeps his calm.

"We'll handle it." They will. "If you don't need me anymore I have a dinner date with the girl." He has to handle some other business tonight.

"You guys still all father-daughter?" Clay sounds genuinely interested.

"We're alright." The standard answer for a I don't want to talk about my feelings moment. Clay just grunts and nods as he mounts his bike.

"Go on then but stay available. No telling when this Irish shit will hit the fan." Tig nods and straddles his own bike. He's more nervous about Leila than the Irish but it certainly wouldn't do to mention it to Clay so he cranks the dyna to life and heads for Charming.

* * *

Leila has been waiting at the diner for thirty minutes when Tig finally settles into the booth across from her. He looks tired, windblown and just a bit sad. She wonders if Gemma's assertion that there's something going on with the club is founded in reality. Leila had ended up spending the night at the queen's house after their talk the night before. She'd woken up in Gemma's well-decorated guest room with a plan. Chibs may have been angry and he may have cheated but Leila hadn't stayed in Charming for the Scot and she wasn't going to let the biker drive her away.

In reality Gemma's comment about not being able to handle the MC life had cut particularly deep. Leila had grown up around SAMCRO and Gemma was right she did know how it worked. What happened on runs stayed on runs, if Chibs wanted to be honest with her about what he was up to that was fine. Better actually. Leila had planned to meet him at the apartment and tell him so but he hadn't been home when she'd returned earlier that afternoon and then she'd remembered her weekly date with Tig. She had gotten ready quickly promising herself she'd return to wait for the Scot. She could live the life, the other pussy just needed to stay out of Charming.

"How you doing Kitten?" Tig's voice is overly bright and with everything else that's been going on Leila is immediately on the offensive.

"I'm fine, you good this week?" She smiles at him and picks up her menu. The weekly dates have honestly become a bright spot for Leila. Tig has really made an effort to step up over the last nine months and aside from his problem with Chibs he'd been almost paternal. She needs to make sure he doesn't find out about the current situation with the Scot.

"I'm good, everything's been going well." He's lying, she can see it in the way he keeps his eyes on the table.

"You sure?" She puts her menu down and tries to catch his baby blues, "you seem upset daddy." He's twisting one of his giant rings round and round a finger.

"I—"

"Can I get you two anything to drink?" The waitress is standing expectantly at the end of the booth, notepad in hand.

"What do you say Kitten, milkshakes?" So it's bad news then. The last time Tig had been this excited about milkshakes she'd been nine and her puppy had been run over by a prospect. Poor kid never got his top rocker.

"Sure," she tries not to sound too defensive.

"Two chocolate please." Tig actually smiles at the waitress and Leila starts tapping out a rhythm on the vinyl tabletop. He better get to the bad soon.

"What's wrong?" She waits until the waitress is clear and then drops any attempt at cheerful.

Tig glances out the window and runs a hand down his face. "I saw something the other night you should know about." His eyes flash up to hers and she can see his nerves.

"What's that?"

"It's Chibs baby girl, I don't think. I mean I think you should know what he's been up to." She can feel her blood pressure rising, so he'd managed to get caught by her father. That's okay; she can still handle this.

"If this is about what I think it's about I'm well aware and I don't think it's any of your business." Leila can tell she's hurt him with the venom in her voice but she can't help it. Tig's been up her ass about Chibs since day one and considering their history she doesn't think he has any room to talk.

"You know?" He has a mix of relief and horror spread across his face.

"Chibs told me, it's really not your business Tig. I know you're not happy about him but trying to make a mess of things like this is a bit low." She hates herself for voicing the thought but it's been a long few days and she can't help but take it out in the one place she's guaranteed unconditional love.

"It's not like that Leila, I just know he's been asking you to be his old lady and I thought…"

"You didn't think." She cuts him off, "I have to go, I have some things to do before tomorrow. I'm sorry I should have called to cancel." She's already standing and she can see the pain in his eyes but she ignores it. She has too many other things to try and fix tonight.

"That's okay Kitten. You go take care of your stuff. I'm sorry." He sounds defeated and she feels like a bitch but she doesn't sit back down.

"I'll call you later." She tries to make up for a bit of her temper by pressing a chaste kiss to the top of his head as she passes.

By the time she makes it to the Chevelle she's ready to hit herself for being so horrible. Tig really had been trying recently and she just kept throwing it back in his face. They'd never really continued their conversation from months before when he'd first caught her and Chibs in bed together but she knows that's where all this is coming from. She knows Tig is against her settling any deeper into SAMCRO but she's been happy with Chibs, happier than she's ever been. She just wants her father to see it.

She's about to turn around and go tell him so when she sees the envelope on the driver's side of her windshield and her pulse jumps. It's like the others, unmarked and she opens it with the same shaking fingers. The single picture falls out into her waiting palm and she stares at the image. It's not of her this time and for a moment she thinks she might faint in recognition. It's the same shitty quality as the one before but this time it's Chibs the camera captured. He's leaning back on one of the clubhouse picnic tables, his eyes closed, a blonde head between his thighs. It's date stamped the night before.

Ignoring the utter devastation that fills her chest Leila turns the paper over looking for the message. It's there just like before, scrawled in messy marker: 'You could have come to me to talk, K'. Leila puts a hand out on the hood of the Chevelle as the implication sets in. Not only did Kevin take this picture, he'd followed her to the diner. She glances around the parking lot and the instinct to run back inside and throw herself into Tig's arms is almost overwhelming. She catches sight of her father through the plate glass window; he's still sitting in the booth, two chocolate milkshakes on the table in front of him, head in hands. No, she's burned that bridge for tonight at least. She can do this alone; she can handle Chibs and Kevin. She feels like she's drowning.

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**Reviews are always welcome but thanks for reading either way! **

**More soon... **


	9. Chapter 9

***I do not own anything you recognize***

**I want to thank everyone who reviewed and read the last chapter. You are all awesome and you really made a very stressful week much better. I'm sorry for the slight delay in updating, my classes have started back and I've been really busy at work. Enjoy. **

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It only takes the short drive back to the apartment for a new resolve to settle in Leila's chest. She's not going back to whining girl of the past. Leila Trager is a woman grown and she's going to handle her shit. She's still frustrated with Tig for his attempts to dig into her love life, terrified of Kevin, and pissed as hell with Chibs but she's not going to let the men of her life make a mess anymore.

The apartment is empty when she arrives and she changes into something more comfortable, redressing her still healing tats in the process. Those bitches had finally started to itch and wearing jeans was becoming a minor problem. She settles herself at the kitchen table and pours a stiff drink.

Chibs has run the relationship since the beginning and honestly she'd needed it that way. She'd come back to Charming a lost and scared little girl but the Scot has fixed that. Over the last nine months he'd talked, cajoled, and pushed until she had settled into a level of comfort that had been previously elusive. She knows where she stands with the club, she knows she's family and she knows she deserves better than she's getting. Nine months ago she wouldn't have said anything but now she's going to demand her due. Gemma had been right if she couldn't cut it in the life she needed to leave and that was _not_ an option. He may claim not to want her and he may have gotten his dick wet with that blonde bitch but he's hers through and through. So she leans back in the chair, sets her Baretta and the photo on the table, lights a smoke, and waits.

* * *

The apartment is dark when Chibs sneaks in. He'd waited until late, hoping Leila was sleeping before returning to pick up some of his things. He's spent the last night and day wallowing in guilt and anger over the stupidity of their fight and the subsequent blowjob. He knows he shouldn't have agreed but the blonde bitch had been so insistent and he'd wanted a bit of comfort. In the years since he'd lost Fiona to Jimmy he'd given up on the idea of coming home to a woman ever again and after months of ending up in Leila's warm bed he was aching for some confirmation that he could still make it as a lone man.

He drops his keys in the usual bowl and moves into the room. The familiar surroundings are heartbreaking but he forces himself to wrestle down the emotion. He doesn't need to go soft now, he's already broken the girl's heart and it's for the best. Clay had shown up at the clubhouse that afternoon to report the discovery of Flanagan's body by the Irish and Chibs is painfully aware of what that could mean for him and anyone he's attached to. He notes Leila's bag by the sofa and heads towards the kitchen for a beer, he's going to need to be quiet about collecting his things while she's asleep.

The sight that greets him in the kitchen makes his blood freeze. Leila is sitting at their small table, a cigarette dangling from one hand. Her eyes glitter in the light coming through the open window but Chibs' attention is more focused on the narrow barrel of the gun leveled at his chest.

"Sit," She takes a drag of her smoke and motions to the other chair with the gun. Chibs moves to comply warily, he knew his girl had an edge but this is a whole new level of badass for his usually soft Leila. The flash in her eyes reminds him of Fiona and he wonders if he just attracts hard women or if he manages to do something to them.

"Let's do this without the gun, eh luv?" He doesn't think she'll shoot him but the sight of her with a piece in her hand is brining up too many old memories.

"We're going to do this however I want to. Now sit." He sinks into the old wooden chair and puts his head in his hands.

"What's this about darlin?"

"This." She pushes the 3"x5" photo across the table and he feels his stomach drop out as he recognizes the image.

"Where'd yeh get that?" He can feel his heart hammering as he considers the possibilities. She was either having him trailed or someone else was. The Irish, the feds, another brother all the options have horrible consequences. He starts to pick up the photo, wanting to check the back for a note but the gun slams down on the paper and she pulls it back across the table.

"That's not your business." Her voice is frigid and it sends a shiver down his spine.

"What are yeh up to Leila." He can feel his own temper rising at this armed interrogation. He'd already told her what was what, why was she insisting on this little talk. "I already told yeh what I've been doing," he nods to the picture, "what else do yeh want?"

"I want the truth. I know you're hiding something and I'm not going to sit by while you walk away from this over a piece of trash pussy." It sounds like a direct quote from Gemma and Chibs almost starts to understand.

"Yeh've got yer proof right there." He nods towards the image still on the table between them.

"I don't care about that." She's lying and he knows it but he's going to have to let her say her piece. "I want to know why you think that waste of woman is worth losing what we've got going here. I thought we'd been happy and I need you to explain." Sorry darlin, he thinks, I can't tell you and keep you safe.

"It doesn't really matter what yeh care about. I thought I made it clear I don't want yeh." He has to grind out the last bit and it physically hurts as the words leave his mouth. He wants her so bad he can taste it. Something about the sight of her in just a t-shirt and boyshorts holding a gun has him hard under the table.

I don't believe you." He can tell she's trying to stay strong but the statement comes out as more of a question.

"That doesn't really matter does it?" He's angry now, his voice is hard and he hates the look on her face. "What do yeh want from me Leila? Yeh want me to say yer a good shag but I've moved on. Yeh want me to tell yeh how I took advantage of yeh months ago and kept it going because I like that tight little cunt of yers. That what yer looking for here?" Those big gold eyes are flashing with anger and insecurity. He knows he's just hit on every bad thought she's ever had about them. He forces himself not to care.

"Yes." There's a challenge in her eyes as she chucks the gun on the word and lunges across the table at him, her chair hits the tile with a clatter. The attack is surprising but not unexpected. It's almost a relief they've gotten to this point. At least Chibs knows what to do with anger, she has hurts he can't heal but 110 pounds of anger he can certainly conquer.

He stands and catches her easily, pulling her against his chest; he grips at her struggling wrists. "Is this what yeh want pet? Yeh want to force a man to fuck yeh?" She pulls against him and he can tell she's trying to get an arm free.

"I want to know what the fuck is wrong with you. You don't get to make all the decisions in this relationship." She arches her body against his and he knows what she's trying to do. He can feel her breasts pressing into his chest and her hips angle into his suggestively. They've always fucked instead of talking, what's one more go.

"I've got news for yeh luv, yer wrong." He turns her then slamming her hips into the edge of the table, ignoring her gasp of pain. "I do get to make all the decisions." He wrenches her arms behind her back and shifts them into one big hand even as his other slides up her back and forces her face down.

You're a fucking bastard." Her voice is steel but she's pressing back against him wanton and they both know what's going to happen next.

"I've been trying to tell yeh but yeh just never fucking listen." Keeping both her hands wrapped up in one of his, he moves so his free hand can get between them. Pushing the lace between her legs aside he slips his fingers up into her folds. She's soaked and he can't help the low groan or jerk of his hips. She tries to wiggle away from him when he probes with a finger at her entrance but he tugs her arms to keep her still. "Stop that, yeh started this shite and yer going to finish it."

"I thought you didn't want me?" She's got her head turned to the side so she can look at him over a shoulder and there's definite triumph there. Well he'll teach her a lesson.

"Doesn't mean I won't fuck yeh." He uses one booted foot to kick her legs farther apart, flips the bottom of the shirt up and tugs at the lace covering her ass, shoving the scrap of cloth down to her knees. She shifts against him and he knows he's hurting her so he releases her hands and angles forward, keeping her in place against the table with his weight. She doesn't try to get away, just braces herself with white knuckles on the wooden surface.

He's quick with the snap and buckle on his jeans and he shoves them and his boxers down only as much as necessary before settling his hands on her hips. He feels the bandages covering the new tats under his fingers and with a brutality he didn't know he possessed he rips the taped gauze away from her skin. Leila cries out in pain below him but she doesn't try to stand so he ignores her.

He fits his hands into the dark outlines and he hates the way the sight causes his balls to tighten. He may be trying to push her away but nothing will ever change the fact that in his mind he owns this woman. Using the table for balance he lifts her hips so he can push at her opening without bending his knees. Leila is panting now and when he risks a glance towards her turned face, her eyes are feral. "Just fucking do it already."

He does, slamming into her with enough force to make the table slide forward on the tile. He hears her let out a soft cry but he's already lost in the feel of her. He is more than addicted to her tight little body, the way her back arches to change the angle, the way her walls grip him. She's hot and wet and he'll never get tired of the way her body stretches to accommodate anything and everything he wants. He's pounding into her with force now and he loves the way her breath hitches with each thrust. Her fingers are scratching at the top of the table and he shifts his hips to hit just a little deeper.

The beginning of his release starts as a tingling in his spine and Chibs is painfully aware that he hasn't done shit to help his girl out but he pushes the feeling away. If she wants to know what it's like getting fucked by someone who doesn't care he's going to show her. He's gripping her hips so hard he knows there will be bruises filling in the outlines tomorrow but he keeps going, snapping his hips forward with enough force to have her crying out in pain. With one final thrust he comes deep inside her and his whole body goes limp over hers. He can feel her shaking beneath him and the tremors running up her legs have him dying to push apologetic kisses into her neck. He resists the temptation. Instead, pulling away from her warm body he straightens and starts to tuck in and do up his belt.

He watches as she pushes herself up with trembling arms and with her shorts still around her ankles he can see the mess he's made dripping down her thighs. She keeps her back turned and doesn't talk as she pulls the lace underwear up her legs and he knows this is certainly the end for them. He wants to leave before she turns and he can see the hate in her eyes but he's rooted to spot. When she finally shifts to face him her eyes are unreadable and she has her arms crossed over her chest in a protective stance. He wants to reach out, pull her against him and whisper apologies until she smiles into his neck. Instead he nods once and turns to go.

Chibs gets outside and to his bike before he feels the full reality of what he's just done sink in. He ends up leaning against the side of the bike, head in hands, staring at the still lit front window of the little apartment. He should march back in there and demand she talk to him, he should insist she tell him where she got that goddamned photo; instead he lights a cigarette. He doesn't know what he's doing anymore. For moment he considers going back inside and telling her everything. He wants to explain the Irish, the croweater, and his love for her and watch her eyes go soft in realization but he knows it's just a fantasy. He throws the last of the smoke to the ground and mounts his bike. He's a bad man but he's done right by her. The twisted thought is the only thing that keeps him moving away.

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**I hope you all liked that, I know things are looking a bit dark. **

**Reviews are always welcome but thanks for reading either way. **

**Also, if you're missing happier times, shoot me a request for a one shot. I could use the inspiration. **

**Thanks. **


	10. Chapter 10

**I want to thank everyone who reviewed and read the last chapter. You guys are awesome. **

**This next one is action packed so enjoy.**

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Leila wakes up the next morning alone and sore. For a long moment she just lies in the bed and lets the events of the night before play through her mind. She may have pushed Chibs a bit too far with the gun and she certainly hadn't intended to fly across the table at him like that. She'd just been so mad with the whole situation. The way his voice was low and uncaring, the way he managed to put every insecurity she'd ever had about them out on the table. It had been terrifying, heart breaking, horrible.

She arches in the bed, stretching her back and feels a familiar ache settle in her body. The events over the kitchen table had not been what she'd expected but in way they'd been what she'd asked for. Leila had known exactly what she was doing when she pushed up on him in his anger she just hadn't anticipated his uncaring roughness. She pulls back the corner of one of the bandages over her hips and examines the bruising. Happy will need to do a lot of touch up on the hand outlines to keep them from looking like shit. She hasn't been taking very good care of them and last night's excursions had certainly pulled some ink. Just one more scar courtesy an MC man. Nothing new here.

Chibs will come back to her, she knows that much for sure. She'd seen it in his eyes just before he'd left. There was desperation there and while he might not come back as the sometimes-sweet man she'd gotten to know he'd still return. Leila pulls herself out of bed and starts towards the kitchen for a cup of coffee, she may not be able to cook but she could run a coffee maker like a pro. The shop doesn't open for another couple hours and she could use some caffeine to calm her nerves.

There's something else going on with SAMCRO, she can smell it. The fear in Chibs eyes when she'd shown him that photo the night before had nothing to do with getting caught with a croweater between his legs. Leila dumps a few scoops of grounds into the filter and carefully measures out some water before hitting the start button. She leans back against the counter with a sigh. If SAMCRO didn't want their women involved in whatever this latest drama was that's fine, Leila just doesn't want to see any blow back. It can't be too bad though because there'd been no call on the prepay, no mention of lockdown. Even if Chibs wasn't interested anymore, Tig would have come and gotten her for a lockdown. Hell, with all the money the club has in Reaper Ink Clay himself might have turned up to protect his investment.

The timer on the coffee goes off just as Leila hears the morning paper hit the front door. She makes herself a mug and heads to get the news; maybe she can find some clues in the Charming Times. Unlikely considering the paper recently ran a front-page story on the new paint at town hall, but worth a try. She pulls open the front door letting in the early morning sunshine and glances down to snag up the Times. The mess on the doorstep stops her in her tracks. She feels her body go slack in shock and there's a distant crash of broken china as the mug slips from her fingers. Hot coffee burns her bare feet but Leila can't bring herself to care.

On the front mat, spread out like some kind of awful offering, is a dead rat. It's a big one, brown and white with a creepy bald tale. It looks like the type someone might keep as a pet and its body is large enough for it's slit throat to be obvious, the spray of blood on the floor making it clear where the murder was committed. Tied to one of its back legs is a small and far too familiar envelope. She stoops, pulling at the paper, carful not to touch the dead rodent. Her fingers shake as she undoes the flap and dumps the newest picture out into her hand.

It's another grainy image, obviously taken from a distance, and at night, but the camera must have had a night vision lens because the subject is easily recognizable. It was taken through the back window of the kitchen; she can clearly see her own body bent over the small table, Chibs behind her, his hands on her hips. The photographer was obviously not a fan of the Scot as he'd taken something sharp to the photo and the paper is rough and scratched where Chibs' face should have been. Leila slams the door and lands on her back against the wood with a soft thud. Breathing hard she turns over the image to read the newest note: 'I can take care of your recent infestation. Love K'.

"Motherfucker!" Her yell is pointless in the empty apartment but Leila doesn't care she's had enough. She's been weak and timid in her life and she's certainly been helpless but there's enough of Tig in her that she's never backed down from a fight. She has enough going on without Kevin coming into things and creating a mess. She's going to finish this. Storming into the bedroom she gets dressed in a rush, pocketing the picture she heads back into the kitchen to grab the discarded Baretta off the tile floor. She's careful to step over the rat on her way out the door; she can handle that later. Right now she's got another rodent to take care of.

The shop is still dark when she parks in front. It's a quick stop, she just needs to pull Kevin's customer card for the address. She's surprised to find the door unlocked and pulls the gun as she steps carefully into the front room. She scans the space and doesn't see anyone so she darts quickly behind the big front desk pulling the box that holds every client's info from the bottom shelf. She's just sorting through the mess of cards in the 'S' section when the hand lands on her shoulder. She turns on instinct, throwing her elbow up and back and spinning but her assailant is too fast and before she knows it she's pinned against the desk staring up at Happy's cold eyes.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Happy's gravelly voice is low and Leila doesn't miss the way his eyes dart to the gun on the counter.

"I needed something, came in early to get it." She doesn't need the Nomad getting mixed up this business. She wants to be the one putting fear in Kevin's freakishly blue eyes. "What are you doing here?" Technically the shop is closed; he shouldn't be here either.

"I had some shit to get done." He's hiding something; Leila can see it in the way his eyes close off as he steps away from her body.

"Oh yea?" She's taken enough crap from the men of SoA recently; they're not getting away with anymore.

"Yea," his eyes are focused on the box of client info behind her and she knows it's obvious she'd been going through the S's. "You're going after Smith." It's not a question and there's no accusation in his tone, just a statement of fact.

"No," she lies, "just trying to find out when his next appointment is." His killer eyes look her over and she knows he's taking in the hard set of her jaw and dark circles under her eyes.

"You're full of shit." She opens her mouth to answer but she's cut off by a crash in the back of the shop. She moves to lean around Happy and the nomad steps to block her view with his larger form but for once Leila is faster. The woman emerging from the back room of the shop is a stranger, tall and dark haired. She's covered in blood.

Leila pushes herself away from Happy's still hovering body in disgust and forces herself to take a closer look at the nomad. His hands are clean but his shirt and kutte are splattered with gore, she feels her gag reflex start and she tries to force it down. "What the hell Hap?" Leila whines the words as the bitch in the background starts to move forward even as Happy shuffles from foot to foot suddenly looking nervous.

"I use the big sink in the back to wash up sometimes after a job. It's got that industrial drain. Clay said it was alright." Of course the bastard did. Right, well this was a whole new mess of SAMCRO bullshit and Leila can feel a headache starting to build behind her eyes.

"Who they got you killing Hap? Does it have something to do with why Chibs has been such a bastard recently?" Happy's eyes close off immediately and Leila knows she's not going to get any answers here.

"We need to do her?" The unknown woman is suddenly much closer than Leila expected, she has a slight southern accent and Leila's terrified to find her eyes cold and dead.

"No." Happy snaps the word over his shoulder and the woman just shrugs. "She owns the shop, she's SAMCRO." Apparently Leila's not SAMCRO enough to get answers but she feels reassured that at least the bitch isn't going to kill her. "What are you up to Leila?" He reaches around her and takes the Baretta, pocketing the gun with ease.

"It's none of your business Happy, I can handle my own shit." Leila's had enough protection; she wants to be the one to warn Kevin off.

"Sure you can," his smile is indulgent but his eyes are dark. "Let's go back to the office and talk." Leila glances over his shoulder at the woman and shakes her head no. The bitch looks like a killer.

"I'm not going anywh—" The last of her words turn into a yelp as Happy just bends down and scoops her over his shoulder. Leila struggles for a minute but the big killer shakes her small form and she ends up hanging over his body, useless, while he walks them towards the back. "You're an asshole Hap."

"Yea, and you're too independent for your own good." He drops her in a chair and Leila doesn't miss the way the other woman is still lingering in the doorway, amused smile on her lips.

"What are you looking at bitch?" Leila can't help the outburst so she directs it at the unknown in this situation. The woman lunges through the door, violence on her face but Happy catches her, shoving her back on her feet.

"You cunts are both going to get me killed. Stop it." Leila can't help feeling a bit triumphant when the last bit is directed at the brunette.

"Fuck this," the other woman snaps, "I'm going to finish cleaning up." She turns on her heel and is gone. Leila glances up at Happy.

"That little over the shoulder trick was not cute nomad. I'm sure Chibs wouldn't be amused." Leila is pretty sure the Scot could care less considering but she hates that Happy is holding all the cards in this situation so she'll use what leverage she has.

"The way I see it you and he aren't so much together anymore." Happy calls her bluff.

"He still wouldn't want me over your shoulder." She won't back down from this. "Just give me the gun Hap and let me go."

The nomad just shakes his head. "No gun until you tell me what's going on." Leila considers him for a moment. She's going to have to tell him, that much is obvious, she may be brave but she's not going to face Kevin the Epic Rat Killer without a piece and the Baretta is her only one. Tig had kept her on a pretty short leash when it came to illegal weapons since the hospital incident months before and it would take days to pick up another.

"Fine, but I'm very angry with you." Happy scoffs and settles himself back into the spare office chair.

"Take a survey baby, find out how much I care. What's going on with Kevin Smith?" Leila lets out sigh and reaches for her pocket. The newest picture is crumpled and there's a bit of rat blood smeared across the back. Happy just watches her with mild interest. "What's this?" Happy takes the photo from her hand and Leila watches his eyes widen with recognition. "When was this taken?"

"Last night, through the window of my kitchen." She feels bitter resignation settle in her chest even as Happy lets out a low growl. He flips the image over and glances back up at her.

"Where'd you find this? Are there others?" Leila had a feeling Hap was planning for his day to get a whole lot bloodier before the end.

"That's the fourth one. They've all been different. I found that one tied around the leg of a dead rat on my doorstep." She feels hollow as she recites the facts of the situation.

"Fuck!" Leila jumps as Happy's fist slams into the desk on the word. "Why wouldn't you bring this up. Between this shit and his little display in here the other day this bastard should have been dead for a week."

"I was handling it myself."

"Really? With your pussy purse gun? You let this get out of hand." He looks furious and Leila leans back in the chair, she's never been really terrified of the big nomad and she wishes she wasn't now.

"I was going to go talk to him. Make him leave me alone." She hates how small her voice sounds and for the first time she wishes she was a bigger woman, a stronger one. She bets the brunette in the other room still getting blood out from under her fingernails would have already slit Kevin's throat and burned the body.

"You're an idiot. You should have come to me with the first picture. I'm going to take care of this." He's already moving to stand and she jumps up to.

"I'm coming." He almost laughs at her before shoving her slight 5'5" frame back into the chair.

"You'll stay here, and I'm going to make sure of it. I've heard enough about your little suicide missions." Leila's indignant at that but the bald man looks more than serious and the last thing she wants is the end up tied to a chair for hours while he's off doing god knows what. "Keep the shop closed today, don't answer the phones. It'll be done by seven." She nods.

"Happy?" He turns back to look, "Don't tell Chibs and Tig." The nomad just nods and she knows he'll keep this secret for her.

* * *

Chibs waits until late morning to return to the apartment, he'd wanted to give Leila time to cool down before he came back. They needed to talk all this shit out before things became a mess and talking wasn't an option any longer. If the Irish are going to kill him Chibs doesn't want to go to the grave with Leila's last memory of him a hard fuck over the kitchen table. He'd gotten no sleep after that disaster and returning to the clubhouse had only made things worse. Clay and Tig had spent most of the evening holed up in chapel and Chibs has no doubt they were trying to figure out who they could pin the Irish mess on.

The Scot backs his bike into his usual spot and starts towards the door, keys in hand. He wonders how long it will take Tig to notice he's moved back into the dorms full time and celebrate. He bets it's less than a day. For a moment he thinks the thing on the front mat must be the paper but as he gets closer the body of the rat comes into sharp focus and Chibs feels his heart freeze. It's a big animal, the type one might find at the docks or on a cargo ship. Chibs throws a glance around the parking lot, looking for trouble then kneels down. The rodent's throat had been slit and the blood still looked a bit fresh.

He feels panic slowly rising in his throat and he scans the lot one more time looking for the Chevelle. Leila's car is gone, and Chibs jams the key into the lock with such force he's surprised the metal doesn't bend. He rushes into the house sure he's going to find her body spread across the kitchen floor but the place is quiet and dark. He scans the room and notices the gun from the night before has been removed; her bag is gone from its place by the door. His fingers feel clumsy on the keypad of the phone as he dials the number for the shop.

"Reaper Ink," Leila's familiar voice is friendly and Chibs feels some of the tension ease out of his shoulders, "hello? Is anyone there?"

There's a pause and then a click as she hangs up. So they hadn't gotten to her. Chibs shoves the prepay back into his kutte pocket and heads out the front door locking up behind him. He picks the rat up by the tail and flings into a far clump of bushes before mounting his bike. He needs to tell the lads and then he needs to make sure Tig can get the girl clear of this mess. The Irish had thrown down the gauntlet and Chibs didn't want Leila to get in the way while he answered the challenge.

* * *

**The mystery woman is Batty from Voracious_Bitch's _Sliding the Safety Off_. There's going to be a co-written one shot coming soon with the other side of things from this scene soon. I do need to thank VB for letting me play with her characters! **

**I hope you all liked that. Reviews are welcome but appreciate that you're reading either way. **

**Keep up the requests for The Wayward if you have one. **

**Until next time...**


	11. Chapter 11

***I do not own anything you recognize***

**Hey all, sorry about the long wait I spent most of my week fighting off the cold from hell. Feeling better now though and I've got some awesome stuff ready for you. I'll try to post another chapter this weekend to make up for the week off. **

**Thanks for all the reviews and I hope you enjoy. **

* * *

"I'm pretty sure Happy said don't answer the phones." The brunette's voice is ice cold and Leila drops the headset into the receiver immediately.

"There wasn't anyone there anyways." Leila turns away from the large front desk and faces the other woman. She's tall, and built like an athlete; obviously she trains for the life she leads. After three hours with the bitch Leila has no doubt she's a pro killer. Happy had fled the building only minutes after their conversation and he'd taken both the photo from Kevin and the Baretta with him but before he'd gone he'd set Leila up with a babysitter. Leila had heard them arguing about it in the back and she knows the woman isn't pleased with the task.

"All they needed was your voice to confirm location, get to the back." The very large gun in the woman's hand means there's no question about following the order and Leila allows herself to be led to her office. "Sit." Leila slams herself down in the chair and wonders if she'll be taking orders from people harder than her for the rest of her life.

They don't talk as they wait and Leila inspects the woman in front of her. She's got a hard but not unattractive face and a killer body but it's the eyes that unsettle Leila the most. They're pretty eyes but they've seen too much. They're cold and Leila can't find anything but disgust for the current situation in them. They remind her of Happy's eyes in the first few months he hung around the shop and Leila decides to handle the new woman in a similar fashion. Twenty questions.

"What's your name?" The dark haired woman snorts.

"None of your business, Leila." The bitch draws out Leila's name, stringing it into a teasing set of extra syllables.

"Are you from down south? You have an accent." The brunette just picks up an old copy of People magazine off the desk and flips it open, the gun still in one hand.

"Do you like killing people?" Leila tries to be more direct this time.

"Yes." The word is uttered in a monotone from behind the celebrity gossip.

"There's a great article in there on how to cut your hair to match your face shape." The magazine slams down onto the desk and Leila finds herself confronted by very angry eyes. The phone is ringing again somewhere in the front of the shop.

"I don't have to stay here. I could leave you to whatever trouble you've managed for yourself." The bitch is mad, good.

"You'll stay, and you'll kill if you have to. Hap's got you on a short leash. I'm not stupid." Leila feels very stupid for challenging the only person with a gun but she's tired of being bored. The woman literally growls at the statement and Leila is reminded of a boarhound she'd met at a rally with Tig once.

"I'm not on anyone's leash, I owe Hap a favor. He helped me out so I agreed to babysit your sorry ass." Yep, that sounds about right.

"I don't need a babysitter." Leila can't help the pout in her voice and she's suddenly jealous of the bitch's toughness. She bets this woman wouldn't have gotten in this mess; she would have been able to handle her shit and keep her man interested. The thought almost makes Leila cry.

"You do. All you MC cunts are useless. Your men spend too much time cleaning up your messes." Leila can't fault the logic of this statement. She may try to manage her own shit but she does rely on the men of the MC to protect her from the big dangers. Hell, they'd bought her the building they're in. She's definitely a bit of a kept woman. She hates herself.

"Let me ask you something," Leila's suddenly curious, "What would you do if your man cheated on you?"

"Kill the bitch he cheated with." There's no question in the statement and when Leila looks into her eyes she can tell the other woman is serious.

"Happy sleeps with other women."

"What's your point?" The voice is still hard but Leila sees just enough emotion to confirm her suspicions. So the brunette was fucking the killer, good for her. The phone rings again and the woman's eyes flick to the front of the shop. "Get your shit together, we're leaving."

"Happy said to stay." Leila doesn't like the idea of going anywhere new with this unknown.

"I know what he said but you answered the phone. Who ever you've pissed off could be on their way over. Now, get your shit." The gun flicks towards the door and Leila pulls herself up grabbing her bag off the floor.

"Where?"

"Your place."

"I'm taking my car." The woman pauses at that and gives Leila a once over. Leila can see the appraisal there; the killer assumes she's not much to worry about. Well good for her, bitch is about to learn something.

"Fine, but no stupid shit."

Stupid cunt, Leila can't help the thought as she climbs into the Chevelle. Obviously Happy's killer woman didn't think very highly of her if she really thought Leila was going to follow orders from the safety of her car. With the gun still in the possession of the other woman climbing into the old sedan Leila feels more than ready to make an escape from this nonsense. The 454 in the Chevelle would out run that piece of shit without much effort. Leila glances back at the brunette killer one last time and returns her nod, an obvious attempt at confirming compliance, before settling herself into the driver's seat. She spares one last thought for Hap's mystery girl and cranks the engine. The tires squeal as she burns rubber out of the lot, the two shots the bitch fires off landing harmlessly on the pavement behind her. SAMCRO may baby their women but they sure as fuck give them fast get away cars.

* * *

Leila pulls into the parking lot of the apartment complex at eighty. She knows it's stupid coming to the place they'd agreed upon and she has no idea if Happy gave his killer friend the address before he left but Leila only needs a few minutes to get her shit then she's gone. She may not have an MC man to protect her but she sure as hell still has a father and Tig won't turn her away. He's honestly the only man she knows who would shoot the bitch if things happened to get hot. Leila wonders when it stopped bothering her that Tig kills women but she pushes the thought aside.

She's in the apartment in a minute and she doesn't notice the rat's body missing from the doorstep. She rushes to the back room to collect the few irreplaceable things she owns. A few photos of her mother and a very crumpled picture of she and Tig at a lake. She digs through the jewelry box coming up with the crow necklace Chibs had given her months ago. Leila had taken the piece off a few days ago in a childlike fit over the Scot's behavior but she wants it back. She clasps the chain around her neck, pausing for a moment to admire the glint of light off the bright white and blue flag.

She grabs a duffle out of the back of the closet and is just starting to throw some clothes in when she hears the front door open. Her whole body freezes as she listens for footsteps. She moves slow, standing silently she casts her eyes around for something to use as a weapon, Happy's dark haired cunt is certainly going to be pissed about the trick she'd pulled at the shop. Even though Leila is 85% positive the woman wouldn't shoot her, it's best not to take any chances.

Leila's eyes settle on the big MagLight Chibs had left behind the closet door after she'd made him crawl up in the attic weeks ago. Thank god for lazy men. She hefts the weighty flashlight and grips it like a bat in both hands before sliding around the edge of the door. The bedroom is empty and Leila stands stock still as she listens for someone in the rest of the apartment. There's not a sound but if it's Happy's woman she would certainly know how to move without making noise. Leila is careful as she moves next, stepping gingerly in her riding boots towards the door of the master; she raises the flashlight over her head. There's a soft shuffle and Leila can just make out the lines of a pair of boots through the crack near the floor.

She charges forward, bursting through the door even as she swings the heavy metal in her hands. Her short stature makes the blow fall too low to disable the opponent but Leila makes contact and she doesn't pause to look as she pushes past the doubled over assailant. There's only two steps left to the door when she feels a hand catch at the back of her shirt and she goes down hard landing on her hands and knees. There's a heavy weight on top of her and Leila doesn't think about what comes next, she just slams her head back. There's a satisfying crack of contact and the weight lifts with a muffled curse. She lunges for the door again and she can actually feel the cold metal of knob in her hand when she's grabbed around the neck. She's thrown backwards with force and when she slams into the shitty wooden coffee table she feels it collapse under her weight.

In the back of her mind she's aware that she's bleeding from somewhere near her temple and her whole body hurts. She can feel fear bubbling up in her throat; she's never been in this hopeless a situation. She pushes up on her hands and her attacker suddenly comes into view. Leila feels a shiver of surprise go down her back at the familiar blue eyes and too tight smile. "Fuck!" She scrambles backwards now and ends up running into the edge of the sofa. Pushing herself up on shaking legs she faces a bloody Kevin Smith and for a second they both pause and then she tries to run.

She barely makes it to the door of the kitchen before he's got her around the waist and she scrambles to get a grip on the edge of the counter, trying to pull herself further into the room. She kicks back wildly and she hears a grunt but he's got too strong a hold and she finds herself being flipped. Her body slams painfully into the edge of Formica and the dirty glasses piled up near the sink crash to the floor in a mess, shattering. She's trapped between his body and the hard surface behind her, there's no way out now.

"I didn't want it to be like this Leila. I thought you'd come to your senses but there are too many things in motion." She has no idea what he's talking about and his eyes are wild, she feels fear like never before settle into her stomach.

"It doesn't have to go like this Kevin. We can talk this out. I won't press charges." What the fuck happened to Happy killing this bastard. She spares a hope that the nomad's okay but then Kevin laughs and she forces all her attention back the present.

"I'm sorry Leila." His eyes are honest with the apology and for some reason that's the worst part.

"For what?" But her question is answered almost before she manages to say the words as Kevin raises the MagLight in his hand. Leila doesn't even have time to scream before the metal connects solidly with the side of her head.

* * *

Stupid fucking dumbass bitch Scott; Tig revs the throttle of his bike and watches as the needle on the speedometer slides over a hundred. He hadn't been able to believe his ears when the pussy foreigner had crawled into the clubhouse an hour before with news of a dead rat on his doorstep. Clay's first thought had been for the continuation of the gun trade with the Irish and Tig's had been for Leila. If the Irish were leaving dead rodents on her doorstep because Chibs couldn't keep his trigger finger under control it was going to blow back on the kid.

The Scot had had sad eyes as he'd told Tig that he'd called the shop and Leila had answered the phone but that wasn't near enough to reassure the Sergeant at Arms. He hadn't even waited for Clay's go ahead, Tig had just gotten on his bike and left for Reaper Ink. The shop had been closed up tight, lights off and doors locked but Tig found two slugs in the parking lots and tire tracks that matched the Chevelle. He'd cocked his gun and turned for the apartment within seconds.

He'd practically gifted the Scot with Leila nine months before and he can't believe this is how his brother repays him. After all that bullshit about having a kid of his own and protecting her he'd gone and killed the son of a Irish king bringing all sorts of crap down on Charming and Leila. Tig can feel his blood practically evaporating in anger and he hits the throttle one more time.

He screams into the parking lot of the apartment complex and he's got his gun in hand before he even sets the bike down. The Chevelle is still in the lot and Tig releases a sigh at the sight. He starts towards the ground floor door of his old place and stops in his tracks; the gun comes up on instinct. The door is closed but Tig can clearly see the damaged wood where it had been recently forced open. He pauses for a moment outside taking deep breaths in preparation for what he may find inside. If he finds the body of his baby girl he's going to kill the Scot. Contingency plan made he moves forward.

There's a new wave of panic at the destruction in the front room. There's blood on the carpet of the foyer and the coffee table is in splinters. Tig's been in enough bar fights to know what it looks like when a human body crashes into something. "Kitten?" There's no answer and he moves farther into the room scanning methodically. "Leila?" The second cry comes out just a bit broken and he forces himself to get it together. He ducks into the kitchen first, his boots crunching over broken glass and his heart falls at the blood splattered across the counter. He clears the room and heads for the master, his stomach sinking. He knows he won't find her here.

A quick scan of the rest of the small living space confirms his suspicions and Tig finds himself back in the kitchen. Years of experience tell him that this is where the fight ended and his mind screams at him that the blood on the cheap counter top is probably his daughter's but he can't bring himself to recognize the fact. The glint of silver catches his attention and for a moment he thinks it's just the broken glass but a flash of blue tells a different tale. He picks the necklace up and rubs the blood off the bright enamel.

Yep, he's going to kill the Scot, find his baby, and then slit the throat of anything that dares come near her again.

* * *

**Reviews are always welcome but I appreciate you taking the time to read either way. **

**I know there were a few requests made this week and I'm getting to them as quickly as I can now that I'm recovered. **

**Also, be on the look out for a one shot from Happy and the 'mystery woman's' point of view coming soon from Voracious_Bitch. I'll let you know when it's officially posted. It's a co-written piece and it's pretty awesome. **

**Thanks again. **


	12. Chapter 12

***I do not own anything you recognize***

**Hey all, if you're in the US I hope you had a great long weekend. I did but now it's back to real life and more fanfiction. **

**The Bible verses quoted in this chapter are Proverbs 6:16 to 7:25 from the NIV translation. They are taken terribly out of context but I thought they fit. I mean no disrespect by using them as a literary device to make Kevin's crazy clear. **

**I hope you enjoy. **

* * *

Leila is curled up in bed next to Chibs, her head on his shoulder, one long leg slung low across his hips. He's got one arm wrapped around her body, the hand buried in her hair and he's whispering to her quietly. For a moment she's confused, for while the voice is accented and familiar the words are ones she hasn't heard since childhood.

"If yeh ever get taken try not to end up at a second location but if yeh do find yer bearings. Remember to look for windows and listen to sounds outside. Pay attention to yer captors, they might give yeh clues. Play weak, don't let them know how strong yeh really are, make sure they know people are looking for yeh. If yeh get a chance, kill them, don't worry about consequences just get away." He finishes the little speech with his warm brown eyes locked onto hers and his fingers massage the back of her scalp.

"Why would you let me get taken?" She doesn't understand.

"I don't know." His eyes go hard, "yeh have to wake up darlin."

"No." She doesn't want to get up but his hand in her hair tightens painfully.

"Wake up!" The voice morphs and her eyes snap open when the hand her hair gets tighter still. Chibs' brown eyes have been replaced by Kevin's cold blue and Leila pulls away from the other man on instinct.

"Good girl." Kevin's voice is the usual whine and he's standing over her in the poorly lit space. His smile never falters as he continues to speak; "I was so worried about you Leila, you made it so hard for me to rescue you." Her natural instinct is to spit in his face but she remembers the subconscious advice and just nods.

"I'm— I'm sorry." She hates how the words come out as a whimper but it seems to appease the smiling man because he nods down at her indulgently.

"I know you are. I know you didn't mean any of it." He gestures to his face when he talks and Leila is happy to see he's got two black eyes, it looks like she might have broken his nose when she head butted him at the apartment. Bastard deserved it. "Are you okay here Leila? Do you need anything?" He's still smiling so wide she can see his molars.

"Water?" He nods again.

"Of course, I'll be right back." When he turns to go she catches sight of the gun tucked into the back of his pants. He leaves the small room she's in and Leila forces herself to listen hard as he moves around. It sounds like he climbs a set of old stairs and her suspicions are confirmed when she suddenly hears movement from overhead. Okay, so she's in a basement.

She takes his absence as a chance to take a look around. The room is small and has obviously been built off from a larger subterranean space. She's tied with duct tape, hands behind her back and feet together on a bed, which takes up most of the area. There's a work bench across the way and Leila can see tools pouring out of the old red box on top. She's on her side facing the door of the room so she rolls her body over to inspect the other side.

There's a small window set high in the wall but the only light is currently coming from a large ceramic lamp on the nightstand. She glances up over the bed and catches sight of a huge wooden cross on the wall over the headboard. The most terrifying part of the room is certainly the far corner where the walls have been sloppily painted blue and an old crib has been placed in what appears to be a state of honor. The ratty blue and white bedding hung over the side looks like it's seen better days and a shiver runs down her spine when she wonders what happened to the baby.

There are footsteps from outside the door and Leila rolls herself quickly trying to look pathetic on the bed. It's not hard. She can still taste blood in her mouth and one eye is swollen almost shut. There's a pain from her back and she assumes she's bruised from hitting the coffee table at the apartment. Kevin comes back into the room holding a glass of water and washcloth and Leila schools her face.

He puts the washcloth on the side table and reaches for her, she forces her body not to react as he gets a grip on her shoulders and pulls her up against the headboard. She's not sure if she trusts him not to drug the water but she's honestly too thirsty to care and she guzzles the liquid when he holds the glass to her lips.

"That's good." His smile never falters as he puts the glass down and reaches for the cloth, starting to wipe blood off her face. "I didn't want to hit you Leila, but I knew I had to save you. I've known for weeks now that you wanted me to rescue you, protect you from those men." Jesus Christ, she thinks what is it about her that just begs men for protection. Once she kills this bastard she's going to have to take a long look in the mirror and get rid of this hopeless woman image.

"I know you didn't mean it." In the meantime she knows it's best to play along. "What are we going to do Kevin, they'll come after me." She wants to know the plan. Then she can start to form her own.

"Don't worry, the Lord will protect us. We are following his glorious path." Great so he's crazy. That'll make things more difficult. Tig had always taught her that as motivations go money and revenge were the easiest to overcome. Fanatics, however, can rarely be convinced to abandon their beliefs.

"The Lord has plans for us?" She tries to sound interested instead of sarcastic and it must work because Kevin's smile widens.

"Yes, you must have felt them. I was sure the minute I saw you that you were the one. The Lord called me to you but you had fallen into sin with the bikers." He's smiling manically now and she wants to throw up. His hand stops it's work on her face and he reaches out to cup one cheek. "You're going to save the world Leila." His eyes are so earnest with the statement she almost finds herself believing him. Motherfucker.

"How's that now?" She can't keep the incredulous tone out of her voice.

"That's good," his voice is indulgent, "it's good that you're ignorant of your part in things, it will keep you pure." Right, well that's not reassuring. He turns to the small end table and Leila is unsurprised when he comes up with a Bible. "You have been tricked into living in sin Leila, the Lord detests the men of your club. Listen." He fumbles with the pages of the Bible for a moment and then starts to read.

"There are six things the Lord hates, seven that are detestable to him: haughty eyes, a lying tongue, hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked schemes, feet that are quick to rush into evil, a false witness who pours out lies and a person who stirs up conflict in the community." Well, SAMCRO is certainly guilty as charged; Leila almost smiles at the implication but controls the impulse as Kevin continues.

"My son, keep your father's command and do not forsake your mother's teaching. Bind them always on your heart; fasten them around your neck. When you walk, they will guide you; when you sleep, they will watch over you; when you awake, they will speak to you. For this command is a lamp, this teaching is a light. And correction and instruction are the way to life, keeping you from your neighbor's wife, from the smooth talk of a wayward woman. Do not lust in your heart after her beauty or let her captivate you with her eyes."

His voice is strong on the finish and Leila starts to feel a tingling of fear when she realizes he believes the words with everything in him. He stares down at her with that crazy smile and it's like someone dumped cold water over her head. She's never been religious, Tig obviously wasn't one for church and Margaret had never even mentioned it but Leila is sure Kevin's taking the verses out of context. He can't possibly believe that the Lord wants her saved from SAMCRO, if anything Leila herself is guilty of at least five of the seven things the Lord detests. She lies back to wait for what ever comes next.

"Do you see Leila, I had to get you away before you ruined yourself. If you'd married the Scottish biker what the Lord has planned for us would have become a sin. You're too good to end up being detested by the Lord, he wants me to teach you the right path. I will be the lamp you will follow." She can't help but consider what must have happened to this man to make him think so highly of himself but she nods in agreement.

"I know Kevin I do. You're right. I see that now. If you untie me I'll stay. I'll let you teach me." She's not above begging right up until the moment she slits his throat.

"You're not ready yet, there's still so much for you to learn." He's flipping through pages in the Bible again but Leila's had enough of the holier than though act.

"I have to go to the bathroom." Kevin observes her over the top of the leather bound book and he finally nods.

"Of course." He moves towards her and for a minute Leila thinks he's going to cut her binds but instead he just scoops her up bridal style. So much for that. He carries her out of the small room and Leila tries to get a good look at the outer space but he moves too fast turning them into a small bath. He sets her down on her unsteady still taped feet and she feels herself panic when his hands go for the snap on her jeans.

"Please Kevin just undo my hands. Please." He smiles indulgently but his hands just reach for her waist. Leila's brain struggles for a moment and then she comes up with a new tactic. "You shouldn't see my body!" His hands freeze, "not until I'm pure," she continues with desperate hope, "the Lord wouldn't want you touching me before I've learned my lesson. Let me keep this from you until I'm ready." She hates herself for the plea but it seems to work.

"I knew you were a smart girl." His eyes are almost bright with tears but Leila has no thoughts for it because he's leaning around behind her to tug at the tape holding her wrists. They come free painfully and she pulls them to her chest rubbing at the raw skin. "I'll be just outside." He smiles again and leaves.

As soon as he's out the door Leila lets the overwhelming panic set in. Her head turns quickly looking for something, anything to use as a weapon and she feels her shoulders sag as she comes up empty. The bathroom is spartan, even the mirror appears to be made out of the cheap unbreakable glass used in truck stops. Might as well try and fight him off with her fists, she settles herself on the toilet tugging at the tape around her ankles. It comes free and with her limbs finally released she tries to gear up. The stairs are just outside the door; all she has to do is get past the man and up them.

"Everything alright?" Kevin's voice comes through the wood of the door and Leila flushes the toilet to keep up appearances.

"Yes." The door is one that opens out and his voice sounded close on the outside, time to take a risk. Leila takes one last deep breath and lunges for the knob putting all her weight behind her shove on the old wood. It flies open and she hears a shout as it connects. There's a moment of panic as she tries to get her bearings again in the dark basement, then she runs for the stairs. She's up the first three in a second but she can hear him recovering behind her. She doesn't look back.

His boots are loud as he chases after her and she screams when his arm grabs her around the waist throwing her down the steps she'd managed to conquer. She lands on her back, all breath gone and looks up at the man over her. This is not the Kevin she's been tattooing for six months, his face is a mask of rage and she screams again when his steel toed boot connects with her stomach.

"Please, please." She can't help begging and he bends down pulling her up by her hair.

"You stupid devious woman." He all but spits the words into her face and he's got the gun in his free hand. "There are plans in place you don't have the right to disrupt." The muzzle of the gun is cold against her already injured temple and his boot connects with her stomach a second time. She curls in reaction; her body struggling to protect delicate internal organs but the hand in her hair stops the movement.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." She's openly sobbing the words now and his face softens just a bit the smile inching back into place.

"I know. The Lord can forgive all wrongs. It's not your fault you've been poisoned by the unholy biker trash."

"Yes, yes. I'm sorry." The gun disappears and she's boneless in pain as he picks her up.

"We have to be careful Leila, you can't make me hurt you like that again. We don't want to injure the baby." His smile is almost loving.

* * *

**Thanks go out to everyone who reviewed and read the last chapter. You're all amazing. **

**Reviews are always welcome but I appreciate you reading either way. **

**Coming soon, Chibs and Tig fight it out! So look forward to that. **


	13. Chapter 13

*** I do not own anything you recognize * **

**Thanks for all the reviews on the last chapter. You're all awesome. I'm glad you're all as creeped out by Kevin as I am, although it was fun bit to write.**

**Also, if you get bored in between updates go check out the piece I have co-written with Voracious_Bitch. It's called _Dead Cold Consumed_. It's a piece from Happy's point of view during the earlier shop scenes and reveals more about his mystery woman. VB and I would love to know what you all think. **

**Hope you enjoy. **

* * *

It is just starting to get dark when Tig pulls his bike back into the Teller-Morrow lot. He hadn't bothered calling anyone ahead; getting a jump-start on the search wouldn't make a difference with the Irish. Besides, Tig has some business to handle with a certain brother and he hadn't wanted to give the Scot a heads up. He backs his bike in, still clutching that damn necklace in one hand, the chain wrapped around his gloved fist.

There had been a time when Tig had planned for this eventuality. He'd spent most of Leila's childhood drilling self-defense, safety, shooting and planning into her skull. He'd once had a million contingency plans in place for her and Margaret. There had been a time when she never would have been out of his sight. He couldn't really put his finger on the exact moment Leila stopped trusting him to protect her but he was pretty sure it had been somewhere between her mother dying and the drive by. It was certainly long ago and he had since abandoned every extra protection he'd had in place. Aside from having her occasionally tailed while she'd been in Salt Lake he'd been careful to give her space.

When the Scot had first come along threatening to pull her deeper into the danger of SAMCRO Tig had talked with the man. He thought they'd come to an agreement. Tig wouldn't kill the bastard for fucking his baby and Chibs would make sure Leila stayed safe and clear of all club bullshit. The deal was broken now and Tig was itching to see some blood. There are women and children in the clubhouse and Tig recognizes the mass of them with an easy nod. He even spares a small smile for Gemma and Clay, huddled and talking in a corner. The Scot is at the bar, a big whiskey in front of him, and Tig hopes he's not so drunk that he doesn't feel what's coming next.

"Hey Tigger where's the girl?" Bobby's question comes from the side and Tig ignores him.

"Tig?" Jax has caught sight of his eyes and the Sergeant at Arms doesn't miss the way the younger man starts towards him.

Tig draws level with the Scot, grabbing the back of his kutte. Chibs looks up at him with hazy eyes and Tig spares a thought for the fact that he wishes the man was sober but in the end it doesn't matter. So he pulls back a fist and with more force than he thinks he's ever put into a punch he slams it forward. There's a scream in the background and the Scot slides off the barstool with a curse. He comes up swinging though a Tig takes a solid hit to his side before he's on the other man again. Chibs may have been a prize boxer but Tig wasn't drunk and he's got the other man pinned in a second. His fists connect solidly with his face three more times before he feels arms around his chest pulling him off.

"What the fuck!" The world filters back in bits of shouts and screams. He's aware of Gemma herding women and children out into the lot somewhere behind him but he's more focused on the very bloody Scot at his feet. "What the hell Tig?" Clay's voice becomes crystal clear, that means Jax must be the one holding him back. Tig holds his hands up in a sign of defeat.

"I'm good, I'm good." He shakes himself out in an attempt to prove it and feels Jax release him. He takes advantage of the younger man's stupidity and throws himself back on the recovering Scot, pushing Bobby out of the way as he goes. "How does it feel you fucking bastard?" His fist slams up into Chibs stomach but this time the Scot is ready for it and he moves. Tig ends up overbalanced; throwing another punch into Chibs' face he just feels his fist connect when the Scot throws him. Chibs is on him in a second and there's more yelling from around them. A fist lands in his face and for a moment Tig's dazed but he grabs at a wrist, he wants to taste blood for this shit.

It's Clay and Bobby who finally wade into the mess and successfully pull them apart. Tig is breathing hard and there's blood in his eyes from a good hit to his face. He thinks he may have cracked a rib but the Scot definitely looks like he got the worst of it. One cheek is split open and he's got an arm around his waist, his breathing is labored. Jax is standing between them, arms spread.

"Explain." Clay's voice is icy. Tig throws the now re-bloodied necklace at his _brother's _feet. All heads go down to the sparkling silver chain but Tig only has eyes for Chibs and he watches as panic and fear spread across the other man's face.

"Where's Leila?" It's the Scot who speaks first and there's a slow pain spreading through Tig's chest that has nothing to do with the fight.

"Tigger? Where's the girl?" Bobby's voice is calm but Tig knows his brother, there's worry there.

"Gone. Apartment's a mess, blood, broken glass, the whole deal." He rattles off the news in a monotone. He needs to get his head on straight. He spares a glance at Chibs and feels vindicated by the devastation there.

"Fuck!" The Scot breaks free of Bobby's useless arms and slams his fist into the bar so hard Tig hears something crack. He doesn't wait around for more reactions, just turns on his heel. Tig knows he's going to confirm the news. It's what he would do, go, look, make sure. Feel the guilt alone. There's nothing else to do.

"How much blood?" Bobby's rubbing a hand up and down his face and Tig understands the upset. The Elvis impersonator was practically her uncle.

"She's not dead. Or at least she wasn't when they took her." If he can just turn her into any other missing person she'll be easier to find. No emotion, no feelings, not yet.

"Irish?" Opie asks.

"If Chibs was right about the rat then probably. We're gonna get her." Clay's voice is unimaginably calm. "Juice, follow Chibs. Jax call whoever we've got in town. We're gonna get her back." Clay claps a hand on his shoulder and Tig allows his president to press his forehead against his own. "I swear to you brother." Tig just nods. "Bobby clean him up."

* * *

It's full dark outside and Chibs has been sitting in the mess of her apartment for two hours. He knows he's being useless, he knows he should be hunting down the Irish and his girl but he can't bring himself to move. He'd been an idiot. He'd lied to the girl nine months before when he'd told her he couldn't get mixed up with her if she still planned on leaving. Really, it was because of this, it would always be because of this. In his long 29 years Chibs can remember being happy for only five of them. The four he'd spent with Fiona and the last nine months. He should have known he couldn't keep the things he loves safe; the world has proven it to him over and over again.

He'd had a life and family in Ireland. He can still remember Fiona during the early days, the days that had him following her around like a puppy on a leash. He'd been so young and full of ideals and she'd been wild and capable of acting on everything he claimed to believe in. Over their four years together he'd watched her morph into something cold and hard. She'd gone from the sweet girl with IRA in her blood to a killer. No remorse, only an undying passion to see the cause further. Chibs had hoped the birth of their daughter would take some of the fight out of her but it had only intensified things. She told him now was the time for more blood. To make things right for their baby girl. That first meeting with Jimmy O had been the end of everything. Sure, Fiona had continued to play her part but Chibs had lost her heart and soon he'd lost the rest of her.

Four years later and Leila Trager had drifted into his life like some kind of salve. Thinking she was far harder than she actually was and with a bit of a reckless side, she was another broken woman he thought he could fix. He'd nursed her through her first kill, the pain of her relationship with Tig, and her insecurities with SAMCRO. A bit too wild for her own good he'd spent the last few months trying to keep her out of club business in the hopes that she'd settle into the mostly normal life she claimed to want. Now his desire to keep her as innocent as he could had blown back into this. He glances around the destruction of the apartment yet again and tries to figure out what comes next.

The sound of a new motorcycle outside interrupts the pity party. Juice has been standing guard at the door for almost an hour now and Chibs can just hear the younger man trading greetings with someone new. Chibs looks up expecting Jax and is surprised at the sight of a still bloody Tig standing in the doorway to the kitchen. So he's come to finish the job. Chibs had been surprised by the first punch at the clubhouse but after the news had come out he felt the whole thing was well and truly deserved.

"Gonna kill me?" He looks back to his quickly bruising knuckles as he talks.

"I should." Tig takes the seat across the table and there's a soft click as a gun is put on the table. "I would too but Ope is outside under orders to make sure I don't. At least not until we get answers."

"Did Clay call McKeavey? If they want me in exchange I'll go." They both know what it would mean. The Irish would kill him before he got off his bike.

"Seems the Irish still aren't wise to your bullshit on the run. Or so they claim. McKeavey says they don't have her and he had nothing but questions for Clay about Flanagan." Tig's voice is calm but Chibs has been in Charming long enough to know this is business and Tig is nothing but professional.

"Think it's true?"

"I think the Irish would have the town criers out in force if they knew we'd killed their man." Chibs glances up at the other man and he knows this is a quote from Bobby. For all that Tig was great at his job he'd never had a mind for club politics.

"What do _yeh _think?" This is the important bit. This is the part that decides what happens with the gun.

"I think it doesn't matter who has her because someone does and it was your job to keep that from happening so I want you to explain. Because the way I see it we reached an impasse several months ago that was supposed to prevent this kind of shit." Tig's practically yelling by the end of this speech and Chibs can feel anger starting to coil at the base of his spine. The bastard has no idea what's been going on.

"I tried."

"Not good enough," Tig cocks the revolver, "try again."

"I tried to push her away, get her gone from me and any blow back. Told her I cheated on her. She doesn't have any ink, figured she'd be safer if I was free of her life. Nothing they could do to hurt me but hurt me." Saying it out loud Chibs realizes what a stupid plan it had really been. Leila wasn't some random girl who stumbled into the club; she'd practically been raised in the clubhouse. She would always been a weak spot, for all of them. He puts his head back in his hands. "Was obviously a dumb idea."

"Yes." There's a soft thud and when Chibs looks up Tig's head is on the table. For a moment he thinks the man passed out but then the Sergeant at Arms sits back up and his eyes are too bright. "I shouldn't have trusted you with it anyways. I pushed her towards you because she hates me and you pushed her away hoping no one would notice she's affiliated. She ended up with no one."

"We'll get her back." Chibs doesn't believe the words himself until he's said them but with the statement anger swells into his chest. He's not going to lose another chance at happiness to the Irish.

"I'll get her back and you'll stay away." Tig maintains eye contact as he speaks. Chibs opens his mouth to reply but Tig cuts him off, "because you did cheat on her and she deserves better and because I know I can be there even if she doesn't want me but I can't trust you to keep her safe anymore."

"I love her." It's physically painful to say these words to Tig before he's managed to utter them to Leila but he does it all the same.

"Good for you." Tig looks like he's got something else to say but they're interrupted by a crash at the front of the apartment. They're on their feet in a minute and no matter the current argument they meet eyes and nod. They're still brothers. Tig takes point and Chibs pulls his own piece and follows through the smashed living room.

The source of the commotion is immediately obvious as they reach the foyer. Opie is talking quietly to a very angry looking Happy, his knuckles split and bleeding. The glass that once filled the front window spread around their feet. They both holster their guns at the lack of threat.

"What's this?" Chibs steps around Tig to look at the nomad. Happy would have been at the shop today, the shop where the Scot last spoke to his girl.

"It wasn't the Irish." Happy looks more than furious. "I'm sorry brother, I let this happen." The nomad is talking to Tig for the last part and Chibs is trying to figure out what he could possibly mean.

"No, no Hap." Tig is shaking his head. "She didn't get taken from the shop. I saw the shell casings though, so maybe something started there but this isn't your fault." That's magnanimous Chibs thinks. A surprising turn for Tigger.

"No, this wasn't the Irish. I'd bet money this was that Kevin Smith prick." Chibs feels ice down his spine at the words. "Leila came into the shop early this morning. Found a rat on the doorstep with this around its leg." The bald man is holding out a photo to Tig now and Chibs can't help the surge of recognition. He'd seen something similar recently. "She was going to go after Smith herself but I caught her at it. I left her with an associate of mine but she managed to get away. I assume she came back here and he found her. I had him trailed until Maple but he gave me the slip. I'm sorry brother. This is the fourth one, I should have killed the bastard weeks ago."

Tig seems to be in some sort of shock so Chibs leans forward and snatches the still offered picture. He recognizes the image instantly, taken through the kitchen window, his own face scratched out violently. He wonders if Smith did it or if Leila's responsible. He wouldn't put it past the girl considering.

"That was on the rat?" Tig has recovered enough for speech. "Is it signed?"

Chibs turns the scrap of paper over, "I can take care of yer recent infestation, Love K." The overwhelming disgust makes his stomach churn. Obviously Leila had been keeping her own secrets over the last few weeks.

"Four of them?" Tig still seems to be wrapping his head around the news. "Do we know where he lives?" There we go Chibs thinks, that's the Tig he knows and as if to prove it a very disturbing smile splits the man's face.

"Been there, dark and dead. Nothing. I came looking for Juice hoping he could pull up some records." Juice is already nodding at Happy's words and there's suddenly a bit of hope in the world. "What do you wanna do now brother?" Happy is looking at Tig but the Sergeant at Arms is looking at Chibs expectantly.

"We get the girl and kill the bloody bastard. Slow."

"Yes sir," Happy sounds almost joyful, Juice and Ope are looking at Tig for confirmation. He nods once and they're all heading for the bikes.

* * *

**So Chibs is being whiny, but he's going to pull his shit together soon. He's a deep character and I was trying to get that across here. **

**Reviews are always welcome but thanks for reading either way. **

**Coming soon: Leila and Kevin have a serious talk about their obvious lack of future together. **


	14. Chapter 14

***I do not own anything you recognize.***

**Hey all, thanks for all the wonderful reviews on the last chapter. I want to apologize for the continued update delays, with school back in session I don't have as much free time as before and everything takes longer to accomplish. Either way, I hope you enjoy.**

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Leila comes to for the second time back on the bed in the small room. Her hands and feet have been re-taped and all she's really got to show for the bold escape attempt is a very bruised abdomen. The sky outside the window is just starting to lighten and Leila spares a thought for Chibs. She wonders how long it will take for the Scot to return to the apartment and find the destruction. Days probably, he'd made his position clear and she didn't' have any allusions to her footing with him. He was her only hope though. She and Tig had left things in worse shape and she usually only talks to her father every few days. If anyone was going to realize something is wrong it would have to be the Scot.

She wants him so bad she can taste it. Cheating aside, Leila had never felt safer with a man in her entire life. She would give anything in this moment for his big form to bust through the far door. She didn't care how useless it would make her feel, she wants his warm brown eyes, his big rough hands. She wants him spread over her like a blanket.

Her favorite part of the past winter had been sneaking around with the Scot. In the weeks before they'd moved in together she would wait until things had died down to sneak into the clubhouse and his dorm. He would stay awake for her and she would crawl into his warm bed and waiting arms. They'd fuck until they couldn't move and it hadn't been unusual for him to fall asleep over her, their bodies still connected. Then, Leila would stay still until she was sure he was asleep and she'd lie there, tracing the scars on his cheeks, the lines of his face. She'd loved him then, even if she couldn't say it. She loves him now.

The feeling spreads through her chest with painful force and Leila is glad Kevin went upstairs to nurse his newest hurts because she knows it must be obvious on her face. She has to get out of here. She let's her eyes trail around the room and they land on the toolbox. She can just see the bright orange box cutter sitting on the top tray. It would certainly take some doing but she can get to it if she's careful. She cocks her head to side trying to hear movement from up above but there's nothing. Maybe Kevin died of a broken nose. It's really too much to hope for.

She tests her limbs and finds everything in working order. It's painful to pull herself up into a seated position. The bruised muscles of her stomach protest and she can feel the still healing tats on her hips tug but she manages it all the same. She pauses to listen again and when there's no new noise from above she swings her legs around so she's sitting on the edge of the bed. She's never been in a captive situation before, so there's no telling how off her balance is going to be. Instead of attempting to hop it from her current place she eases herself around the edge of the bed until she's as close to the tool box as she can get.

She pauses one more time to listen, she knows she'll only get one chance at this and if Kevin catches her attempting to escape again he'll kill her. There are only so many times a girl can ruin the Lord's plans. When she's certain there's nothing coming from upstairs she pulls herself to her feet. It's unsteady and she's immediately off balance, landing back on her ass in a second. She manages to stay upright on the next try but now comes the hard part. Mouth or hands, the question of how to pick up the blade rattles in her brain for a moment. She decides mouth. It's three unsteady hops to the workbench and every time she moves Leila is terrified Kevin will hear the pound of her boots on the unfinished floors.

Once there, it's another trial to pick up the damn box cutter and she ends up slicing the corner of her mouth. She hopes she didn't make the wrong decision, this would be a shit way to end up with AIDS. She's almost to the edge of the bed when the crash sounds from overhead and the panic that floods through her body is momentarily overwhelming. She lunges the last few feet landing on her side the blade still between her teeth. She feels frantic as she spits it out shuffling her body to hide it in the mess of sheets. She can just feel the edge of the razor biting into her side when Kevin slams through the door.

He's shirtless now and Leila can't help but notice how terrifying his ink is. She put that image on his chest, she gave him the power to do this and now she feels like she's reaping the consequences. His eyes are bright and his usual smile is gone as he looks down at her.

"You're awake, good. I have been reading upstairs. It has taken sometime but I think I know what to do fix you. You're too wrapped up in your sin Leila but the Lord can fix all." The heavy leather Bible from before is still clutched tight in his hand and he brings it down across the side of her face so fast she doesn't have time to react. The force of the blow causes her head to snap sideways but she uses everything she's got to keep her body still. She has to hide the blade at all costs. "We'll pray now." Kevin's voice is so calm it's almost soothing and when he kneels by the side of the bed and starts to recite the Lord's Prayer, Leila has no idea what he wants from her.

"Kevin?" She doesn't know where she's going with this but him praying by her bedside for hours isn't going to help her cause. "Kevin? Do you think I could get some water?" Maybe the trick will work a second time.

"The Lord has told me you're only to have what the baby needs. Nothing more." He picks up his litany right where he left off and Leila is thrown for a bit of a loop. She has no idea what baby he thinks she's going to produce but if his plan is to keep her here for nine months and hope he's going to be sorely disappointed.

"What baby?" Chibs always said she's a stupid bloody woman.

"The Lord has blessed us Leila. You will bear his fruit." The smile he gives her is indulgent and she doesn't struggle when he reaches out to press a hand to her flat stomach. This was getting surreal. Did the bastard actually think she was going to birth the second coming? Leila almost laughs out loud.

"The Lord's fruit wants some fucking water." She's tired of this shit. Time to make a move. Kevin's eyes flick up to hers and the smile falters.

"You'll learn to be a delicate woman in time but even the greatest of men have dealt with whores and such is my burden." He moves to stand and she feels relief flood through her. If all she had to do to get him out of the room was let him call her a whore she would have done it a long time ago. She watches with bated breath as he turns to leave.

As soon as she hears his feet on the stairs she gets to work. Ignoring her protesting muscles she moves quickly shifting on the bed until she manages to get the blade into one hand she bends her wrist and gets to cutting. The angle is awkward and the razor cuts into her palm a few times before she's got it down but after that it doesn't take long to cut through most of the tape. She leaves a bit connected, just enough to keep up appearances and arches her back to work on her ankles. She cuts them free entirely but leaves the tape on her jeans. Gripping the box cutter by its cheap plastic handle she leans back on the bed trying to maintain her previous position. Just in time too.

Kevin comes back into the room and it looks like he's learned his lesson because this new cup has a lid and a straw. He holds it out to her from the edge of the bed and she drinks up. "So how did you know I was the one?" He seems pleased with her question.

"You were a woman scorned and surrounded by sinners. I've been watching you Leila. The foreign man doesn't love you but he wants to own you, your father has turned you out. You needed me." He's a perceptive crazy person; she'll give him that.

"And that?" She nods her head towards the crib in the corner, "Did you set that up for the baby?" His smile widens in pride and she revels in the relaxed set of his shoulders. She'll never be able to take him on head to head he's too strong. Her only chance is to catch him calm and close.

"Yes," his voice is almost dreamy; "it came to me in a vision. There was another baby but I needed it more." She almost gags at the implication and her fear rises to new levels. This was a man who _needed_ to die.

"How did you know I was," she pauses as bile hits her throat, "with child?" His eyes still have a glazed over quality to them when he looks back to her.

"You're not yet, but I know you will be soon. The Lord has told me how to set things in motion." Her hand tightens on the blade.

"How?" She knows she won't like the answer.

"When you're ready." He's looking at her like she's a present he's been waiting far too long to unwrap.

"I'm ready." She knows it was the right thing to say as his eyes focus in on her and he nods.

"I knew you would be soon." He's on the bed then, one knee perched on the edge, his hands reaching out for her. It's now or never. His whole body is relaxed and he has a look on his face that she can't name but she doesn't try too hard. She tugs at the last bit of tape around her wrists and hears it tear free and then she slams herself forward putting all her weight behind the blade. There's a moment when she thinks she's going to miss and she can see the way it will play out. She can literally feel his hands killing her but then there's a hot spray of blood slashing across her face and the handle of the box cutter is lodged firmly in his neck.

She falls back then, the panic of the moment finally overtaking the calm before the kill and she rolls off the bed and away from his still reaching hands. His big blue eyes are open wide and his mouth is opening and closing with no sound. His hands scrabble for the knife but it's in too deep. She'd gotten lucky; with the amount of blood starting to pool she knows she must have hit an artery. She can see his eyes starting to go dim and she knows he's aware death is coming because of the way his hands fall slack onto the bed. He's just trying to hold himself up now.

"I'm sorry." The words come unbidden but she can't help the wave of remorse when his body finally goes slack, falling still and dead on the bloody sheets. She may have killed a man before but she's never watched one die and she wonders how Tig manages to do it over and over again. She feels like a piece of her soul, the soul Kevin was trying to save, has been ripped away with his death. She stands sill over his body for a long time and then it's like something clicks in her head and she can hear Tig's voice in her ear.

She needs to clean up. Or, at least get herself cleaned up so she can get to someone to do the real clean up. The hardest thing she'll ever have to do is moving the body and as she reaches out for it she's certain he's going to reach up and grab her. But when she rolls him over his eyes are still glazed, the sick smile half on his face. She checks for a pulse anyways before going for the gun in his pants. Now armed, she feels safe enough to drift out into the main room of the basement.

The bathroom is still rundown but it has hot water and she spends a good ten minutes getting blood off her face and hands. Her shirt is useless and she sheds it standing in front of the plastic mirror in just her bra. Her torso is a map of bruises and her face has certainly seen better days but there's nothing for it. She uses wet toilet paper to get the last of the blood off her boots. Leila finds her bag at the top of the stairs, the leather coat she'd been wearing carefully folded over it. Considerate of Kevin to bring her things along, it makes covering up his murder easier. She pulls the jacket on and zips it to cover herself, she tucks the gun into her jeans.

It hurts to settle the heavy messenger bag on her shoulder but she does it all the same as she heads out the basement door and into the main house. She'd expected something far more sinister than what she finds. The whole place is almost cute, with bright windows and lace doilies on every surface. It looks like a grandmother's house and for a moment Leila considers checking to make sure the occupant didn't fall south of Kevin too but she decides against it. She's had enough for one day. The battery on her cell is long dead but the clock by the door says ten. The bright sunlight outside confirms it's A.M. She steps out the doors, closing it firmly behind her and starts the long walk to anywhere else.

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**Reviews are always welcome but thanks for reading either way. **

**Coming soon: A new twist and another douchebag**


	15. Chapter 15

*** I do not own anything you recognize***

**Hey all, thanks for all the great reviews on the last chapter, I really hope you enjoy this one. **

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It feels like she's been walking for hours. The house where Kevin kept her for the night was outside of the Charming city limits although not by so far that Leila doesn't recognize her surroundings but damn far enough. It had been a good two miles down the dirt road leading away from the house before she'd hit pavement and she'd spent the entire time looking over her shoulder. Even though she'd confirmed his death Leila was certain he'd come after her. Maybe as a continuation of the Lord's plan.

She's been ambling down the paved road into town for a good hour now and she's pretty sure there are at least another two to go. It's okay though; she's been using the time to think. Leila's no longer unsure of her standing with SAMCRO, she knows what she is to the club and most of the men in it. She knows she's eventually going to have to give Tig a break, maybe it's all the recent murder but she feels like she's been a bit too hard on him in the father department. He'd obviously put in some effort or she wouldn't have turned out quite this normal. Chibs is a horse of a different color though and she's not sure what to do about the Scot. She loves him; she can admit it to herself now although saying the words to him would be harder. It's what to do with the love that's got her stuck.

The way she sees it there are two options. Accept the bullshit he's been handing out over the last week and step away. Run away more like. Or, fight it. Force him to explain himself and make it clear that she's ready to live the life; whatever that may mean. She's not a little girl who needs protecting anymore; she's more than proven that. She just needs to make it clear to him. Gemma once told her there were only two ways an old lady could survive; know everything, or know nothing. Knowing nothing wasn't working. The recent lack of communication had landed her duct taped to a bed and Chibs, well she didn't know where it landed Chibs but she had a feeling it was bad. That meant there was only one alternative left; know everything. Leila was ready.

The sound of an engine in the distance is so startling Leila barely has time to spot the dark blue sedan, mark it as a federal car, and ditch the gun before they're on top of her. Her palms are instantly sweaty but she stays calm as the unmarked cruiser rolls to a stop next to her. There is nothing, however, that could prepare her for the hit of recognition when the passenger window rolls down.

"Leila?" Matthew Conrad's voice is just as surprised as she feels. "Leila, I knew you were back in town but I didn't expect to find you hitching." He looks exactly like he did in her youth. The same hazel eyes; the same crew cut gray hair. She can still remember the first time he brought her in for questioning when she was ten. She'd spit in his face. They'd developed a bit of a love-hate relationship after that. He was the ATF agent assigned to the Sons and he'd been in and out of her life as a warning sign of danger for years.

"I'm not hitching. I'm just walking to town." His gaze doesn't falter and she knows they're both just playing a very old game.

"Get in, we'll take you." Not an option.

"No thanks, it's nice out."

"It's not really a request. We tried to pick you up at the shop but it was closed. We're just getting back from Lodi with orders to pick you up at home." This doesn't bode well for her or SAMCRO.

"You got charges?" She's not ten anymore. She knows the rules.

"Nope, just some questions. Maybe we can talk about what happened to your face." There's a threat in the statement and she feels her shoulders slump.

"I'm not riding in the back. Tell cutie there to shove over and you drive." Matt gives her a hard look and she can see the incredulous face of the other agent but she knows she'll get her way.

"Alright. You heard the lady." The last part is directed at the very pissed off looking female driver.

"Seriously, Conrad?" There's a whine in the blonde's voice now and Leila is immediately frustrated.

"You heard me probate, we need the girl so we keep the girl happy." Leila sends a satisfied smile to the blonde and waits patiently on the side of the road while the changes are made. The blonde holds the passenger door open for her with a huff.

"I don't want to go in Matt. I'll answer what you've got to ask on the way to the garage." Leila refuses to be held against her will for the second time in 24 hours. He frowns at the request but nods.

"I was surprised to hear you were back in town. Thought you'd fled for good after the drive by." He's pulling the car away from the shoulder now and he cuts his eyes at her expectantly.

"I came back when Tig was in the hospital a few months back and found my footing again. What's it to you?" He smiles, this is the game they always play. He asks and she refuses to answer. It's a dance she knows by heart.

"I hear you got tangled up with one of the brothers. The Scottish transplant?" There's a huff from the backseat.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I just thought Charming was in need of a tattoo parlor." Leila keeps her eyes on the road and wonders how long they've been under surveillance.

"I'm not here for your man Leila, or your daddy. I've traded up to the Irish. You can talk to me." Bullshit.

"I don't know why you think I'd know anything about the Irish. I'm here to be closer to Tig and make some money off the fine people of Northern California."

"Your _daddy's_ a fucking murderer." The snap comes from the backseat and Leila can feel her temper rising.

"You'll shut your fucking mouth _probate_, I don't remember agreeing to talk to you." Matt chuckles from the drivers seat.

"Still charming as ever. What happened to your face Leila? If you're in trouble I can help get you out. You know I can." There's scoff from the blonde but Leila knows Matt's honest in his offer. It's one he's made before.

"I ran into a door. I was Drunk, you know I'm legal now." She casually references the one time Matt managed to pick her up drunk and underaged. Things had gotten a bit out of hand.

"I'm aware." His voice is tight and he eases the car to a stop just before the cheery 'Welcome to Charming' sign. "Leila I'm going to be straight with you, we have a lot of history and I want you to know what you're getting into here." She stares straight ahead.

"You don't have anything to say I'm going to want to hear." She wants out of the car.

"Just listen. We have reason to believe the men of SAMCRO have been dealing guns for the Irish. The Scot, Filip Telford, is their go between and has been for the last few years. He's not a good man Leila. He's not wanted for anything but we suspect he's responsible for several murders overseas not to mention he left behind a wife and child." Matt pauses for a long moment here and she knows it's to gauge her reaction. It feels like there's a knife in her gut but she's too numb at the moment to let anything else in, so she just nods.

"That sucks for them."

"Yes, it does. That's not the worst part though. Three days ago the body of Charlie Flanagan was found up north. He was shot to death." There's a shuffling of papers and Leila knows Matt's scrounging up pictures she doesn't want to see. "Flanagan was the son of one of the Irish kings and ATF knows for a fact the Irish suspect SAMCRO had a hand in his death. Do you know what that means?" Of course she fucking knows what it means and she can feel her heart pounding out of rhythm in her chest but she doesn't move a muscle. "It means that the Irish are looking for proof and once they find it they'll come down on SAMCRO with everything they have."

"I don't know why you think I need to know this Matt." She's proud of the even monotone of her voice.

"The Irish won't just kill the men responsible Leila they'll go after everyone attached to them and with Tig and the Scot that puts you in very serious danger. Theses aren't men who offer mercy to women and children." She just nods.

"So what are you saying?" This is what it's all been building to.

"I'm saying if you were willing to come forward with any information you might know the ATF would be able to protect you. We have a safe house already set up, we can turn around right now and I can have you there in an hour." She killed a man mere hours ago and now she finds out SAMCRO has been fucking with the Irish, she thinks she might have a heart attack.

"I've got nothing for you Matt. I was serious, I came back to be closer to Tig and start my own shop. I don't know a thing." His shoulders sink and she knows he doesn't believe her.

"You're lying." The bitch from the back pipes up.

"Quiet Stahl. Leila," Matt turns back to her, "obviously something isn't so good here in town or your face wouldn't look like you just went three rounds in a pro ring. Did the Scot do that to you? We know he boxes illegally on the side. Did Tig?" Leila can tell the questions are coming from a good place. Matt had always cared a bit too much about her to be completely professional.

"I ran into a door. I really did. Look I really don't have anything for you but I need to get home now. I've had a rough few days and my car broke down so the boys will need to tow it before it gets dark." She's already reaching for the door handle when Matt's hand wraps around her wrist.

"I know you won't take the CI paperwork but at least take my card." He holds out the square of card stock. "If you see something, or if, just if they get worse you can call me. I'll be in town for a few more days and you never know something might change your mind. I don't want to see you get hurt again." There's such a pleading note to his voice she snatches the card from him. "Are you sure I can't take you the rest of the way?" She's already half way out the door and she doesn't want to spend anymore time in the very clean car. She's worried she'll leave behind traces of Kevin's blood.

"No, I'm good." He just nods once and Leila slams the door, watching him pull a u-turn before driving off in a cloud.

She's left standing on the side of the road feeling a whole new weight of trouble coming down on her shoulders. Leila's not a stupid girl she has no doubt SAMCRO had something to do with the death of Flanagan and she's certain Chibs was front and center in that mess. It would explain his behavior since the run. His distance and the slow build up to driving her away. Didn't the fucking Scot know she grew up with this shit. She's SAMCRO born and bred, she knows more about the club's lockdown protocol than his sorry ass. She's pissed with Tig too, bastard should have told her there was something up but she can't blame her father as much. He'd been really trying to keep their relationship separate from his SOA duties; obviously Gemma's advice was true for daughters as well as old ladies.

More than anything though Leila can feel the horror of Chibs having a wife and kid. It's like the last nine months have been nothing but a lie. Everything he's said suddenly comes into question and Leila wonders if the child waiting for him in Ireland is the reason he'd been so calm about her own shortcomings in that department. He'd already had the family life so what was she, an easy fuck? Cute American ass? Her insides twist and she's bent double retching into the road. There's nothing but water to throw up so the whole ordeal is over quickly but it leaves a bad taste in her mouth. She stares down the road into town and for a moment she thinks about turning the other way. She could really disappear this time, they'd find the apartment and think she was dead; it'd be perfect. It's the idea of Tig's face that finally get's her feet moving past the welcome sign. She may hate life right now but the idea of her murderous father torn up with the grief of her death is too much after everything else. So she walks towards home and hopefully some answers.

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**Now I have to take a moment and comment on the events of the season premier, OMG. I don't even know what to do with what happened in the end. If any of you haven't seen it go watch it immediately. **

**Reviews are always welcome but thanks for reading either way! **

**Coming soon: Hurricane Leila hits the clubhouse hard. **


	16. Chapter 16

*** I do not own anything you recognize* **

**Thanks for all the great reviews on the last chapter! It looks like this story has picked up some new readers since the start of the new season so if you're new to my stuff I really hope you're enjoying the ride. **

**I know I promised hurricane Leila but we ended up with a bit of that and a lot of broken. I hope you enjoy. **

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It's late afternoon by the time Leila hits the edge of the Teller Morrow lot. Considering the news Matt shared during their short ride she expects the place to be full of people but the gates are open and the garage doors are pulled down. She drags her weary body the rest of the way to clubhouse and is unsurprised to find the door locked tight. It takes a long moment to get the spare key out of her bag but she finally manages it and pushes inside. Still reeling from all the new information she wants booze and painkillers in that order.

The main room is deserted but there are children's toys spread across the pool table and sleeping bags are piled in a corner. So they'd had people here for lockdown at some point. Heading for the bar Leila pulls a bottle of Johnny Walker off the top shelf before she heads towards the back. If the Scot isn't willing to share she's going digging. She makes a quick stop in Tig's room to pick up a bottle of Demerol and chases two of the little white pills with a long swig. Hopefully that will take care of the pounding behind her eyes and the fire in her chest.

Chibs' dorm doesn't look recently slept in but that doesn't really mean anything. If they'd been on lockdown someone would have changed the sheets so a family could take the room. It looks much the same as it did the last time she was here and Leila takes a minute to appreciate his things stacked neatly on the shelves, the posters and Scottish flag over the bed. She's going to tear this place the fuck apart. She drops her bag by the door, takes another long pull off the bottle and gets to work.

Her painful ribs slow down the process but she's determined so it doesn't take long for the room to become a literal disaster area. She pulls the books off the shelves, taking a moment to appreciate the Scot's apparent love of Shakespeare before flipping through the pages for photos or documents. She doesn't bother with the dresser, she knows what he keeps there but she does use previously untapped strength to tip the damn thing over. Chibs deserves to clean up a mess after this.

Leila finally finds what she's looking for in the closet, in a small cardboard box hidden up on the top shelf behind a spare bitch seat. She almost clocks herself on the head trying to get the thing down but she finally ends up on the floor with the box between her legs, bottle at her side. She's drunk now, or maybe high from the pills but she's certainly feeling better about life. Her head is in a haze and the world is spinning just a bit. It's a good feeling after everything.

Like Pandora, Leila pulls the lid off the box and her nose twitches in a spray of dust. Well at least Chibs wasn't pining over this nonsense on a regular basis. At first glance its just junk but Leila knows her Scot better than that. The man is the opposite of a pack rat, he does't keep anything that's not important so she digs in. The first layer is a ton of legal shit, his visas and old passports. She drunkenly admires the younger images of her man and then sets the papers aside. There are two sets of old brass knuckles in the next layer and Leila uses the edge of a shirt to pick them up. They're both still bloody and she has no doubt they're hiding one of the murders Matt mentioned. No need to add her fingerprints to the evidence.

Leila knows the instant she's hit the jackpot and she sits back for a moment to let it all sink in. The stack of papers and photos are bundled up in a large piece of construction paper, childlike writing declares 'I love you' in crayon. She hits the bottle again; maybe enough booze will make her heart stop pounding. She pulls the rubber band off the package with shaking fingers and the papers tumble into her lap messily. She sorts through them out of order, taking in the smiling unscarred man in many of the photos. He's so young in most but as she gets to the back Leila finds the one she wants. There's her Chibs holding a dark haired baby and the smile on his face is brilliant. Leila feels her chest constrict painfully, she'll never give him a moment like this.

There are other crayon drawings in the mix and between the photos and documents Leila gets an image of a mostly normal family life. They had a flat, Christmases, birthdays, there's even a photo of Chibs with a toddler on his shoulders at some kind of parade. The whiskey burns as it goes down but not as much as the tears sliding over her damaged face. The last two pages in the box are folded around each other and Leila pulls them out slowly. The top page is an Irish marriage license and Leila stares down at the document that ties Filip Telford to Fiona Larkin for life. She turns to the photo and stares blankly at the image. Chibs is young and so handsome in his suit, his arm around a dark skinned, wild haired woman in a white dress. Their wedding day she realizes, they look happy.

The reality of it hits her like a ton of bricks and the first sob is so painful it has her gasping. Her ribs feel like they're on fire but it's nothing compared to everything else. Here she is, a stupid damaged girl trying to build a life with a man who already had one. A picture of the dark haired toddler stares up at her in accusation and Leila kicks out at the box, sending it across the room, a flurry of loose papers following. She fought and killed to end up back in the Scot's arms only to find out they weren't really free to do any holding. Another sob wracks her defeated form and she presses a hand into her side at the pain. She's just looking around for the bottle of painkillers, two more wouldn't hurt when the voice sounds from the doorway.

"Leila?" Tig is standing in the entry of the dorm, gun drawn, but he drops the firearm at the sight of her. He's on his knees in front of her so fast Leila's sure he flew. His ring-laden fingers frame her battered face and she falls into him like a ragdoll.

"Daddy."

* * *

Tig is in shock. After they'd left the destroyed apartment with Happy's news they'd reported back to Clay. The president had immediately moved the lockdown to he and Gemma's house as a precaution and they'd set Juice to research. The mowhawked kid had found a second address for Smith listed in Lodi but it had been another dead end. They'd stopped by the police station to report Leila's disappearance to Unser, trusting the old Chief to keep the news quiet and then headed back to the clubhouse to regroup. They'd just been settling in for a drink and planning session when there was a noise from the back hallway.

Tig had expected to find a forgotten croweater or maybe one of the boys from the garage sleeping off a bender. What he hadn't expected was his Kitten, looking like she'd been beat to shit sitting on the floor of Chibs' closet. She has papers spread around her like some kind of fucked up art project and Tig takes one look at her face before he drops the gun. There's a cut on her temple that seems to still be leaking blood and one golden eye is almost swollen shut. Her arms are wrapped protectively around her middle and when she looks up at him he sees a flash of pain.

"Daddy." He's on his knees in front of her and she falls forward into his arms like she hasn't since childhood. He feels like he's falling apart. Her whole body is shaking against his and he's carful when he tightens his arms around her, sensitive to unknown damage. She's clinging to him like he's the only thing keeping her up and a glance down at the half full bottle means he might be.

"Jesus Leila, where have you been?" His voice is rough and he presses his face into her hair. She sobs into his shoulder.

"He took me. He was at the apartment; everything's broken. He took me and he wanted me to have God's baby and I killed him. There was so much blood. So much blood daddy. Then the feds picked me up, Matt Conrad's in town by the way and Chibs is married." Her entire speech is made into his neck and he can feel the tears sliding down her face. She's slurring just a bit and Tig knows she must have taken something to go with the booze; his baby has never been a lightweight. He pushes her back, holding her face in his hands.

"Deep breaths," she nods and sniffles. He grabs one of the Scot's hoodies and wipes at her nose. Scottish prick won't mind. Besides, Tig still plans to kill him. "Who took you?"

"Kevin Smith." She's calmer now but her eyes are unfocused and dilated.

"What happened?" She blinks at him confused.

"He took me. I did what you said though. He thought I could have God's baby. I killed him." Tig let's his mind digest that for a moment.

"God's baby?" She just nods knowingly and Tig figures he's going to have to wait until she's sober to get a real answer. "Where'd you kill him Kitten? I need to clean up for you?" She nods again.

"It was a grandma's house. I can show you." She actually starts to try and stand but Tig pulls her back down, tugging her closer.

"Later baby girl, later." He settles her against his chest and presses his mouth into her hair. He didn't think he'd get a chance to hold her again, he'd honestly given up hope at finding her alive and the feel of her warm and solid against him is surreal. "The fed's picked you up? Conrad?" She nods into his chest and he can see her one good eye starting to drift closed.

"Yea, he wanted me to rat. Told him no thanks. He said Chibs was married though and guess what Daddy, he is. Fucking bastard." The last part is slurred and she's pointing at the papers.

"I know baby." She rocks into him.

"I think my ribs are broken." Her voice is so soft Tig almost can't hear it and he runs his fingers down her sides, trying to assess the damage.

"I can't tell baby, we'll have to have someone look." She's swaying now and he bats her hand away from the bottle.

"Put me to bed daddy. Please, I just want to sleep now." He's already moving on the words, standing carefully and scooping her up bridal style. His eyes don't miss the raw skin of her wrists or the way she hisses in pain at the motion. Her eyes are closed when he carries her out into the hallway and he makes it to his dorm without calling for help. He kicks the door in, ignoring the breaking wood and shout from the main room. Settling her on his bed he strips her leather jacket and lets out a hiss at the sight of her bruised abdomen. There'll be time for anger after she's safe. Tig pulls the covers up over her body and watches the slow rise and fall of her chest.

"Tigger?" He turns on his name, the spare gun from his holster already in hand. No one is fucking touching her, brother or not. It's Bobby standing in his doorway, hands in the air. "Fuck brother, just coming to check on the noise, you've been back here…" The larger man trails off and Tig sees his eyes settle on the bed. "Holy fuck. Is that Leila?" The last part is shouted and Tig hears a crash from the main room. He holsters the gun.

"Yes." He sinks back on the foot of the bed and pulls a smoke from his kutte. There are footsteps in the hall.

"Jesus, she looks, well, horrible. She okay?" Tig wants to shoot him for being stupid.

"No, she's not okay. She's beat to shit but I think she took something, been drinking. Made a fucking mess of Chibs' room." He lights the cigarette as the rest of them round the corner.

"The hell?"

"Is that…?"

"She hasn't been here the whole time?"

"Mother Mary o' Christ." This last exclamation comes from the Soct and Tig shoots the man a dark look.

"Get out." Tig directs all his hate at the foreigner and he moves to stand as Chibs ignores him stepping towards the bed. "Get the fuck out." He pulls the gun without hesitation and the Scot stops.

"Is she?"

"She's alive, no thanks to you, so get the fuck out." Chibs drops his hands and moves back.

"You need to explain brother." Clay's voice is calm but his eyes are on the gun.

"I want him gone."

"Jax, Ope." That's all it takes from the president's mouth and the two younger men are there pulling Chibs away. Tig waits, watching as Juice follows them and then he's alone with Clay, Bobby and Happy.

"You're going to have to let that ride eventually Tigger." Bobby settles himself in the room's spare chair and Tig just takes a hit off his smoke.

"Not now."

"It's not his fault. We all fucked up on this one." The admission is surprising from Clay's mouth but true. Tig feels guilt settle in his chest but he brushes it off with more anger.

"She need a hospital?" Happy is staring at the bed and Tig turns to check the rise and fall of her chest. She's fast asleep and she must have taken something strong to keep her down through the almost fight. She's on her side, curled around a pillow, she looks too small and bloody.

"She thinks her ribs are broken. You were right; Smith had her. She says she killed him. Couldn't tell me where for clean up." There's a low whistle from Bobby at the news but Hap just nods.

"Good. Glad she got the kill, she wanted it." The nomad looks proud and Tig remembers feeling that way in the hospital nine months before. He'd been proud of his baby's first kill, now it just seems sick.

"What do you want us to do here brother? She's your daughter, it's your call." Clay is watching him closely and Tig knows he's trying to figure out how much this will damage his killer. Clay has never been one to look beyond his own needs.

"She said the feds picked her up this afternoon. Conrad's in town, I'm assuming it's about the Irish shit. We still need to handle that. I'm not moving tonight though." Tig's voice is firm on the last part and he doesn't miss Clay's widening eyes at the defiance. Doesn't fucking matter, he's not moving a goddamn muscle until she wakes up. Bobby nods.

"Fair enough. We'll be around. Should probably call Gem and tell her things are okay with the girl." Happy moves to stand at Bobby's words and Tig nods in agreement.

"Don't kill the Scot." Clay's voice is firm and Tig just shrugs. He'll do what he wants. He needs to talk to Leila first.

They trail out of the room and Happy has to lodge the broken door into place to keep it shut. As soon as they're gone Tig lets his shoulders slump. He drops the still burning filter and stubs it out on the concrete floor before looking back at his baby. He's had moments where he's felt like a shit father but this is the lowest of the low. To see her pretty face covered in bruises, to know that she got her hands bloody because he wasn't there for her yet again. He buries his face in his hands.

There's no time for self pity though and certainly no time to cry over something he can't change. He needs to get into business mode. This isn't the last of their troubles and he needs to be on his game to keep her out of the rest of it. He pulls himself up the bed until he's sitting with his back to headboard, gun in his lap, her body on the side farthest from the door. Tig has been Clay's watchdog since he was 22 years old and he thinks it might be time he put some of that devotion into his daughters. He pushes her curls behind one ear and his hand settles comfortably onto the pillow next to her head. He stays like that all night, finger on the trigger.

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**Hope you liked it. All reviews are welcome but thanks for reading either way. **

**I'm reworking some of the next bit to change my ending so the next update might take a bit longer than usual, bear with me. **

**Coming soon: Tig and Leila have a real talk. **


	17. Chapter 17

**So apologies all around for the delay in posting. I had a major week at school and I just finished a test and remembered I've been a horrible author. Thanks for all the reviews and support and I hope you all enjoy!**

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Leila wakes with a pounding head and no concept of where she is. It takes a long moment of spinning before she manages to get one eye open and she immediately regrets it. Her whole body hurts and as the events of the last two days filter back she wonders how she managed all of it. She feels dead. It's not until she tries to move that she feels the hand on her head. Tig is asleep against the headboard, gun in one hand, the other tangled in her hair. She has vague memories of her father finding her in Chibs' dorm, crying into his chest but it's all too booze soaked to make much sense. She's still wearing her boots.

She pushes herself up slowly, careful to not wake the armed man next to her. Tig must be beat or faking because he doesn't move, even as she climbs clumsily off the bed. She makes it to the small en suite bathroom and closes the door softly. She strips carefully, hissing in pain as she struggles to get the clasp of her bra undone. Now naked, she looks down at herself. She's a map of bruises, two large patches of purple cover most of her right side, from breast to hip. She glances up into the mirror and touches her bloody face gently. At least both eyes are open today but the cut on her left temple will leave a scar. What's one more.

Leila feels utterly disgusting and the hot water of the shower goes a long way towards making her human. She tries to ignore how pink the water is as she steals Tig's shampoo, there's still blood in her mahogany curls. There will be questions today and lots of talk so she tries not to think too much as she scrubs her skin until it stings. She doesn't think she'll ever get the feel of Kevin's hands off her. For a moment his shocked face flashes before her eyes and she can feel the hot spray of arterial blood across her cheek. Her palm slams against the tile for balance and she shuts the water off. Tig only has one towel and she has no clothes at the clubhouse anymore so she digs through his hamper until she finds an old tshirt that doesn't seem too bad.

He's awake when she steps back out into the room, gun still in hand. "Close your eyes. I need to snag some clothes." He does as he's told and Leila digs through his dresser until she comes up with a pair of sleep pants and a clean shirt. She changes silently and then crawls back into the bed, leaning against his side. "I'm decent."

"You've never been decent." At least someone thinks this is funny.

"Don't be disgusting, I'm not in the mood." She presses her head into his shoulder and his fingers pick up a strand of wet hair.

"I know Kitten. You have to tell me what happened. I need to clean up and get rid of the blow back." Knew that was coming. It feels nice to relax into his familiar warmth, knowing he'll clean up her mess.

"Kevin Smith, he'd been leaving pictures on my car around town. Stalking me I guess. I figured I could handle it." She pauses for a moment thinking about how stupid that had been.

"Happy told us some of that." Tig's voice is low and she can't tell if he's mad or just tired.

"Right. Anyways, Kevin turned up at the apartment. He knocked me out in the kitchen and I woke up on a bed in some house off the highway coming into town. I could take you there but I can't give directions. He was crazy. Thought I was going to help him birth the second coming or something." She feels hollow and she's not sure where the strength to relate these events in such a monotone is coming from.

"You're kidding?" Tig's short laugh is sarcastic.

"Nope, he really thought I was going to give birth to a messiah." She smiles just a bit. It was such an absurd thought.

"How'd you kill him baby?" Tig's voice is soft and serious again.

"Box cutter to the throat. Seems all the men in my life have been underestimating me recently and he left me alone in a room with a toolbox." Tig snorts in laughter again.

"Stupid fucker. I taught you better than that." Yes he did. "What about the feds? You mentioned Agent Conrad last night." Tig's voice is nothing but contempt, he's not a fan of Matt.

"He showed up while I was walking back to town. We did the usual threat and witpro bit. He mentioned you've fucked up with the Irish. Nice job daddy. Would have been good to know." She's more than pissed about being kept in the dark.

"Don't get smart, kidnapping only gets you so many free passes. I'll still spank you for lip." He tugs her curl and she rolls her eyes.

"I'm a killer now, you wouldn't dare." He shifts at that, moving so he's sitting crossed legged on the bed facing her.

"You and I need to have a real talk baby girl. All this bullshit joking we've always had going aside." That's a new development and Leila feels her heart start to pound. She has a feeling she's no going to like this.

"What about?" He's staring down at his hands.

"Everything kitten. I've been trying to be better but there's too much old shit in the way, we need to get it all out." Yep, this is going to suck.

"Where do you want to start then? Can we drink?" He smiles at her.

"No we can't drink. Wherever you want."

"Why do you hate Chibs?" Might as well start big.

"I don't hate Chibs, I just don't want Chibs rubbing up on you. After last night I thought you'd know why." So he'd known about the wife and kid.

"Who else knows?" The real question is who else has been laughing behind her back.

"I don't know really. I found out right after you got here last Christmas, he told me when I walked in on you two looking far too cuddly." She nods, Leila remembers the night. It was just before she and Chibs really fell into each other.

"Why do you have a problem with us? I mean I'm pissed about the secret family but it's really none of your business." Her voice is hard, she's not taking anymore shit from these men.

"You're better than all this Leila." He gestures around at the dorm. "You've always been so smart and driven. Hell, you've got a college degree, you could go make something of yourself. Your mother was like that but she got trapped here and I don't want you to do the same. You can do better." His eyes are honest and she picks at her nails.

"It's not your choice to make Tig. Mom had a way out and she chose to stay, Gemma told me. If I want to stay for Chibs or for you I will. I'm not a little girl anymore." He makes a noise in the back of his throat.

"You love him?" It's more of a statement than a question and Leila feels her shoulders sag. She does, oh god after everything, she still does.

"Yes." It's a whisper and she can't meet his eyes.

"I need to tell you something about your mother. About why she really stayed." He reaches out to take her hands, stilling her nervous fingers. "Margaret was a great woman and I know you have wonderful memories of her. She did a good job raising you when she could."

"She raised me because you couldn't." The words leave her mouth before she can stop them and Leila instantly regrets it. He nods slowly.

"I wasn't the best. I know I fucked up Leila, I know; but you usually only ended up with me because Cat was out looking for her next hit. We were a disaster, I couldn't pull myself out of SAMCRO enough to step up and she was too deep in the drugs to know the difference." The words feel slippery as they leave his mouth but Leila knows he's telling the truth, it's just a truth she doesn't want to hear. But she can't stop the way things are quickly clicking into place, all the little missing bits of her childhood sliding home to create what should have been an obvious pattern.

"That Christmas you took me to SanFran?"

"She was in detox, I thought it'd be good for you to get away." She still refuses to look at him.

"The cancer? She never lost her hair."

"AIDS, it was Gemma's idea to keep you in the dark. It made sense at the time, I was so torn up about the whole thing I just agreed." Leila takes a deep breath and hisses in pain as it turns into a burning cough. Fucking ribs. Fucking everything.

"Jesus… Are you?" The panic that fills her chest over the idea of Tig sick with something he can't fight is overwhelming.

"I'm fine. Stopped fucking her long before things got that bad." Relief floods through her system even as Leila feels herself grieving for her mother all over again.

"All the training, shooting, everything?"

"I knew you'd end up alone with me baby girl. I had no earthly idea how to keep you safe. The MC is dangerous and I wanted you to be prepared. I never thought it would come in so handy but, yea." He trails off and Leila finally looks up to his face. He's staring at her and his eyes are too bright. She doesn't know what to do with all this information so she just looks back down.

"Okay. Okay. I'm not my mother Tig. I'm not mixed up in anything other than SAMCRO that might get me killed and I'm not staying because Chibs knocked me up. I'm staying because this is my family and I've got a life here." He makes a noise to interrupt and she just talks louder. "I know you think I can do better and I can but I'm not sure I want to. Obviously we've got some shit to work out but that's between me and him."

"I wanna kill him" She lets out a groan at the admission and throws herself back on the pillows.

"Well you're gonna have to reign that shit in. I'll let you know how the talk goes though." She waits for his grudging nod.

"I thought you'd be more upset about Margaret." He's watching her as though he expects the water works to start any minute.

"Honestly daddy, I've had too much discovery recently. I'll let you know if I need to cry but for now I need food and Bobby to fix my ribs. Tape would be good." Tape would be amazing actually.

He pulls himself up and she lets him help her off the bed. "I love you kitten." She just nods and tugs his kutte back into place.

"I know."

Everyone is up when they walk out into the main room and Leila can smell the muffins from across the room. Tig drifts off and she watches as he moves towards Clay, most likely to let the president know that he's back on point. She forces herself not to think too hard on the revelations of the last thirty minutes. It's a really big step forward for them. Things will be different this time, she's going to make sure. She almost manages to get to the baked goods before Jax intercepts her, his arms gentle as they pull her in.

"You scared the shit out of us." She nods into his chest.

"I know. But if you don't get me food it'll get worse." He pushes her back with a laugh.

"You look like shit."

"Thanks Piney," she moves past the old man to grab a muffin, it's the first thing she's eaten in two days and she'd fuck someone for an omelet.

"Happy wanted to pass on his apologies that things didn't go as planned with Smith. He was really torn up about it, he'd be here himself but something came up." Leila finds Bobby on the other side of the bar and the mangy biker is watching her carefully. "You need first aid?"

"Yes." The word comes out in a shower of crumbs as she tries to shove more food in her mouth while speaking.

She follows him into the kitchen, acknowledging Juice's nervous smile and Opie's hand grab as she goes. She doesn't really want the pity. "Up you get." Bobby palms the counter and she gingerly eases herself up onto the surface. "I can't do much about your face, it probably needed a stitch but it's too late now. It'll scar but I'm sure Tigger will threaten some pansy plastic surgeon into fixing it for you." Bobby is moving around the small room as he talks and Leila just watches as he pulls out strips of gauze and tape.

"I got this." Chibs' voice is soft from the doorway and Leila can see Tig staring daggers over his shoulder. Bobby looks to her for confirmation and she nods. The Scot moves aside to let the older man out of the room and then closes the door behind him.

He's on her in a second, his hands on her face, moving her head side to side. His eyes are hard and she feels like she's been in this position before. He seems to see what he wants because he steps back just a bit. "I'm so sorry luv." His voice is broken and Leila decides if he cries she's just going to leave. He doesn't get to be upset.

"I'm sure you are. I need you to tape up my ribs I think they're broken." She doesn't want to talk about it, not yet.

"Aye, Leila I know what yeh found last night and I can explain." She shakes her head and shoves the last of the muffin in her mouth. Taking the chance to chew she pulls the shirt over her head.

"I don't want to know right now. It's been a long couple days you know. Killed one man, found out my man is married, my mother was a drug addict. Did you know that?" His eyes widen and she doesn't fight when his hands go back to her face, cupping her cheeks. He pulls her in and she doesn't resist, sinking into his chest, the leather cool against her bare skin.

"I should have been there, I should have…" the rest is lost in her hair and she feels him pressing kisses into her still damp locks.

"I didn't tell you, just like you didn't tell me. We're going to have to talk at some point but not now." It takes more will than she thinks she has to push him away. His arms had been all she'd wanted when she was taped up on that bed but it's just too much.

He nods and his hard face is back. This is the Chibs she knows, the Chibs who saved her nine months before. The hard man who knows how to handle damaged women. Now she wonders if he learned it from his wife. His fingers are almost impersonal when they press down her sides and he marks where she hisses in pain.

"I think they're just really bruised. It's going to hurt to tape them but it'll be better after."

"Go for it." She sits still as he wraps the thick bandages tight around her middle and he's right because after it's over she breathes easy for the first time in 24 hours.

"Yeh alright?" It's such a loaded question.

"I will be," She whispers the words and allows herself a moment of weakness, reaching up to to run her fingers along one scared cheek. "Promise."

He catches at her hand and presses the knuckles to his lips. "I got something for yeh if yeh still want it." He's digging in his pocket with a free hand and when he pulls the sparkling chain out Leila feels her throat constrict. "Yer Da found it." She has no words for this, just pulls her hair up and out of the way. He knows what she wants and she's patient as his clumsy boxer's fingers hook the clasp around her neck.

"That's better." She wants to mean her ribs but she doesn't.

"Is it?" Those big brown eyes are searching her face.

"Yes."

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**Reviews are always welcome but thanks for reading either way. **

**Coming soon: Leila breaks down and Tig gets rough. **


	18. Chapter 18

***I do not own anything you recognize***

**Hey all, thanks for the great reviews. You guys really make this story worth my time. I really hope you like this next installment, so enjoy. **

* * *

Chibs stares down at the mess of broken glass and sighs, he can hear Leila moving around the living room, trying to pick up pieces of the broken coffee table. It's been two days since she turned up at the clubhouse beaten and bloody and Chibs still doesn't know what to do for the girl. He kneels down and starts to gather up the shards scattered across the tile. He feels guilt, overwhelming and unimaginable settle in his chest.

He should have been there for the lass, he shouldn't have written Smith off so easily, he should have known she'd keep things from him. Leila's always thought she was harder than she is. Chibs had seen it months before when she'd struggled her way through the Mayan crap and he can see it now in the way she's refusing to talk about anything that happened. He knows he has no right to her anymore but when she let him lay that charm around her neck yet again he'd felt like maybe they still had a chance.

The Irish weigh heavy on his mind and Clay is back at the clubhouse still waiting on a call that will decide their fate but Chibs is resigned. If the Irish are going to come for him that's fine, he's not going to lay down for it. He hates how weak he let himself become over the last two weeks. He'd let the fear of losing Leila blind him to everything else. Pushing her away had been a mistake, it seemed that there were threats outside the MC. He won't do it again, he's going to keep her close whether she wants it or not. Leila's not Fiona, he knows that now. More than that he's come to terms with the fact that he can't blame himself for the leaving of his first wife. Fiona went because she wanted to; Chibs couldn't have saved her. He can save Leila.

There's a clatter of wood from the living room and Chibs pulls himself up, darting around the corner to get eyes on her. She's on the floor, her back pressed up against the sofa, cradling a chuck of broken table to her chest. For a moment he thinks she's hurt herself and he starts forward but she turns towards him at the movement and he stops. There are tears in her big gold eyes and she lets out a small sob, he has no idea what she wants him to do here. He moves on instinct, stepping forward until he's standing over her he goes down in crouch so he can look her in the eye.

"Yeh alright lass?" He reaches out for her but she jerks away from his hand. He goes back on the balls of his feet trying to give her some distance. "Leila-Luv are yeh okay? Do yeh want me to call yer Da?" Her relationship with the killer seems to have gotten better over this mess and Chibs can't help but be jealous at the way she's turned to the older biker over the last two days.

"No, he's on clean up remember." Of course Chibs remembers, it's the whole reason they're here at the apartment. They'd gotten up early that morning and ridden out to the big house on the old dirt road where Smith had kept her captive. Leila'd tried to stay strong but as soon as she'd climbed off Tig's bike in the large yard Chibs had seen the warning signs. Her arms had gone around her middle and when Tig had tried to pull her inside she'd fought him tooth and nail. The killer had grudgingly asked Chibs to take her somewhere else, keep an eye on her while they got rid of the body. The Scot had planned on taking her back to the clubhouse and putting her to bed but she'd wanted to come here. He'd been indulgent, now he's not sure it was a good idea.

"Let me take yeh to the clubhouse darlin, or to Gemma's with the other old ladies." She's wiping furiously at her tears now but shakes her head no.

"I'm not an old lady." He feels his heart freeze up and she continues, "I can't live here again." Her eyes drift around the cute little apartment, now destroyed. "I'm going to have to find a new place. This one has too many bad memories." He just wants to make her better; he used to know how.

"Aye pet, we'll get a new place." He realizes his mistake immediately. She'll get a new place; he's got no rights anymore.

"What happened Chibs?" She's digging in her bag now and he knows she's going for a joint. She's been stoned or drunk for most of the last two days.

"I was young and I made a mistake. Fell in love where I shouldn't have." This is another wrong answer and her eyes blaze as she lights the blunt.

"No, what happened with the Irish? What are we looking at in terms of fallout?" She inhales and watches him warily.

"Right, that was me and Jackie's fault. We fucked up." He holds out his hand for the pot and she passes it without comment. He inhales deeply and settles back on his ass in front of her. "We met Flanagan as arranged, the shipment was good but he was being shifty so Clay wanted us to sample the wares. Jax put the gun together and I loaded it. Don't know what happened after that really, it just went off, sprayed the whole room. Flanagan was standing right in front of me, he took six to the chest." Chibs has been reliving the moment for two weeks and he still can't figure out what went wrong. His finger hadn't even been on the trigger, he'd just popped the clip into place and then it was firing.

"An accident?" She snatches back the joint and sucks hard. He nods.

"Aye, but an accident that looks suspiciously like a hit. The Irish won't take kindly to that."

"Blow back?" He wonders when she lost her fear.

"If they find out it was us they'll kill us all." No point lying to the girl now.

"And that's why you told me you didn't want me? The croweater?" He just nods, she's always been too smart.

"I can explain all of it Leila if yeh want me to." _He_ wants to but she's already shaking her head again.

"I don't really want to hear it right now. What I'm about to tell you I'm only telling you because I want your head the right place while we deal with this Irish shit." He braces himself for the worst. "You have a lot of explaining to do about the Irish and the wife and kid but I'm not going to anywhere so you can stop treating me like I'm about to run. You're mine, end of discussion, we'll work the details out later."

Her face is serious and he's about to open his mouth to reply when they're interrupted by a banging at the front door. Chibs pulls his piece from his back holster and he doesn't miss the way Leila's hand is suddenly in her bag, he knows she's armed. He stands slowly and moves towards the broken door, currently held in place by one of the heavy kitchen chairs. The side window is nothing but plywood now so he has to move the chair and actually pull open the door to see who's here. He sends one glance back at Leila but she seems indifferent to the whole process, she's still got her hand in the bag but her eyes are closed and she's slowly exhaling a cloud of smoke. Chibs pulls the door open and raises his gun arm in one swift moment, dropping the piece when Happy's familiar face comes into view.

"Sent to get you, Clay got a call from the Irish. We're on lockdown." Chibs nods and holds open the door for the nomad to come inside.

"Do they know then?" Leila's voice sounds almost manic from the floor and he eyes are unfocused.

"We don't know. Get your druggie ass up girl." She smiles up at them both lazily.

"I don't take orders from SAMCRO anymore." She laughs and Chibs feels his temper rise.

"Yer killing me pet. Did yeh bring a cage?" He directs the last part of the question at Happy and the nomad nods.

"She can't ride with me though. I got Tig and our problem in the back." There's more laughter from the floor and Chibs groans. Keeping a stoned Leila on his bike is going to be hell.

"You've got Kevin in the van? Does his ink still look good. Never finished that piece." She giggles again and Chibs looks back down at her, suspicion growing.

"What else did yeh take?" She laughs again. "What else?" he bends down and grips her shoulders looking into her eyes, they're all black, just a sliver of gold showing around the edges. She jerks away from him.

"Like mother like daughter," her voice is a singsong.

"What the fuck is this?" Tig is standing in the still open doorway looking furious; he's only got eyes for Leila. "You think this is funny kitten? Gonna go get yourself a habit."

"Just trying to stay calm." She smiles up at Tig and the killer is on her in a second, shoving Chibs out of the way bodily. Chibs lunges towards the other man but Tig is too quick and his palm slaps across her bruised face with a loud smack. Happy lets out a groan.

"This shit is too much. Someone get her up." Happy's voice is a growl. Tig pulls his arm back a second time and Chibs grabs at it, pulling him back.

"Jeysus Christ." He tugs the killer back with him and Leila's laugh echoes around the room.

"Don't worry daddy, just painkillers and pot. Nothing too hard." She's pulling herself to her feet now and she sways above them.

"You're a dumb bitch Leila." Tig's voice is a growl and he pulls himself off the floor. "Don't do this shit. Get her to the clubhouse and put her to bed." The last bit is snapped at Chibs and the Scot pulls himself up. Tig has already turned on his heel and Happy follows him without a backwards glance. Chibs ducks down and swings her body up over his shoulder ignoring her gasp as he settles her bruised ribs into place.

"Come on darlin. Let's see if we can get yeh home." He has no idea how he's going to keep her on the bike.

"You talk funny. Did you know that?" She laughs again and he can feel her tugging at his belt, her fingers digging into the skin of his back over his jeans. It's going to be long ride.

* * *

She wakes up clear-headed and warm. It's dark outside and the only light in the room comes from one of the floodlights outside the dorm's small window. There's a heavy arm around her waist and Leila knows the familiar breathing at her back. She lets the events of the afternoon slide around in her head until they settle into the right order. She'd let herself get carried away. It had been the sight of the old house that did her in. She thought she was okay but as soon as they'd rolled up in front of it she'd felt the fear settle in her chest. She'd popped three Demerol in a second and by the time she and Chibs were talking on the floor of the apartment she'd been half hazy and uncaring. The joint had been the final straw and the rest is a blur.

She remembers Tig and Happy showing up and she remembers laying down the law with the Scot. Someone slapped her, but she's pretty sure she deserved it so no point in getting angry. She rolls over to face Chibs' sleeping form and as she does she feels the cold metal of his favorite SIG against her bare shoulders. So they're back to that. Lockdown. That means the Irish know and SAMCRO is fucked. She can just recall the details of Chibs' explanation and the whole story sounds a bit suspicious but there are other things to worry about just now.

"Hey, Glasgow, wake up." Her voice is hoarse and she pokes him in the side to make sure he hears. His eyes snap open and she hears the safety click behind her. "No threat, just need to talk." She feels his hand go slack and he blinks at her a few times.

"Go back ta sleep pet." The words are mumbled and his arm tightens around her waist. He burrows his head into her chest.

"No, talk to me. What's going on with the Irish?" The frustrated noise he makes vibrates through her breast bone and she tangles her fingers in his shaggy hair. She can just make out the beginnings of gray around his temples in this light and it scares her. She's aged her beautiful fighter.

"What do yeh want to know?" He slides further down and it's odd to be the one offering him comfort but she is. She's on her back, propped up against the pillows, his head cushioned on her breasts, his body wrapped around her. It's a reverse of their usual.

"Everything." He nods into her flesh and his fingers are tracing a pattern on her hip below the sheets.

"McKeavey called Clay. They managed to snag the ballistics report from the Feds. They know one of their guns killed Flanagan. They want to meet tomorrow night, we're going in armed." His voice trails off and Leila knows what he's not saying. He'll probably get killed, someone has to take the fall, Clay isn't going to let the whole club go down for a two-man mistake.

"Clay'll give you up?" Her nails scratch against his scalp and he almost purrs.

"Don't know luv. Don't want to think about it. I've got what I want tonight." His arms tighten around her and she almost cries.

"Did you love her?" She hates that she has to know.

"Aye." He's not trying to hide things anymore and Leila feels herself relax into the honesty.

"Do you still?"

"No. She made her choice and I made mine. She's the reason I've got such a charming smile." He rubs his face into her neck and Leila lets that bit of news sink in. So Fiona Larkin wasn't as innocent as she looked in the wedding pictures. Good to know.

"Do you love me?" The fingers at her hip stop their movement and he looks up at her for the first time since she woke him.

"Aye lass," his voice is clear and soft, she can't bring herself to meet his eyes, "it's dangerous how much I love yeh."

"Show me." Leila has no idea where this bold woman has been hiding her whole life but she's not going to complain as she feels his free hand drop the gun.

His grip is gentle as he pulls her down the bed by her hips and pushes himself up overhead. Leila allows herself one look at his face, taking in his soft brown eyes before she closes her own. His lips, when they finally find hers, are gentle and his fingers have no force as they trail down her still bruised stomach. She arches up into his touch, wanting him to erase the last few days from her body. He'd put her to bed in just her tank top and shorts and she can feel him hard against her thigh. He pulls away from her lips and his mouth leaves a wet path down her neck.

"Did he touch yeh lass?" She knows what he's asking and it brings the memories of Kevin's attempts to the forefront of her mind. She wonders how long the Scot has kept this particular fear bottled up.

"No, he tried but I got him first." She doesn't open her eyes but she feels Chibs' growl to the core. His fingers trail along her still taped ribs and she whimpers just a bit. "No more talk." She feels the soft sweep of his hair as he nods into her stomach.

"Aye." His hands tangle in the bottom of her shirt and she shifts to let him pull it off, there's a creak from the bed and she knows he's thrown it off to the side. Her hips lift next and she's suddenly naked underneath him. She doesn't need to look to know he's kneeling over her, studying her body. She's his to study. The back of his hand slides over her cheek and then his lips are back, tugging gently at her own. She reaches down to pull at his shirt and he leans back to let her tug it over his head. Her fingers trail down his toned stomach. If he doesn't come back to her tomorrow she's going to know his body from memory.

His lips trail down her chest and one hand settles between her legs. She's ready for him but he takes his time pushing a finger up into her wet heat. She makes a noise in the back her throat and digs her nails into his shoulders. His mouth is pressing into every bit of flesh it can find and she surges towards him when his lips find a nipple. Reaching down between them she pushes her hand into his boxers, gripping his length and his teeth scrape sensitive flesh. She hooks one leg over his hips and his finger curls inside her before sliding free. There's a pause as he moves to kick his boxers off and then he settles over her completely bare, she can feel him hard and ready between her legs.

"Open." His lips brush against hers on the word and she lets her eyes drift open lazily. One of her hands trails up into his hair, and the other grips at his hip. His irises are dark with arousal and he reaches down to grip her thigh, holding her in place. His gaze never leaves her face as he pushes his hips forward and it's a struggle to keep her eyes open as he fills her. She loses control as he starts to move and even the light pressure of his braced body over hers has her battered abdomen screaming in protest but she wouldn't tell him to stop for anything. His mouth is everywhere, trying to ease her hurt and she buries her face in his neck, digging her fingers into the rolling muscles of his back to pull him closer.

She is surrounded by him, covered, protected. He smells like smoke and leather and his rough voice is muttering into her skin. Her name falls from his lips like a prayer and his slow but steady thrusts are starting to coil low in her stomach. His fingers trail down between them and the pad of his thumb is calloused over her clit, this is the man she fell in love with. The man without the kutte, the man who was willing to hold her while she cried and not ask for anything else. She sucks at the spot where neck becomes shoulder and as the orgasm slides through her body she sinks her teeth into his skin. There's a rumble in his chest and she can feel her body clenching around him with force even as she rides out the wave. He doesn't pick up speed but she knows the moment when he's about to come undone. She can feel it in the angle of his hips and the tightening of the hand on her thigh. He rides out his own pleasure with his face pressed into her neck, words she can't understand falling into her hair.

He stays over her for a long moment and Leila trails her hands down his back waiting for his breathing to even out. When he finally moves off her she rolls with him settling against his side. She makes sure she can hear his heart beat. "You come back to me. I don't care what the Irish are up to, you come back." She whispers the words and she can already feel the tears filling her eyes.

"Aye," he makes no promises but his hand trails down her back to tug at a curl. She can feel his hand searching the sheets for the gun and just like that they're back where they started and then some. "Go to sleep luv. I'll still be here in the morning." She counts the low thumps of his heart until the world goes black.

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**Reviews are always welcome, but thanks for reading either way. **

**Coming soon: Leila gets serious about the Irish. **


	19. Chapter 19

*** I do not own anything you recognize ***

**Thanks for all the amazing reviews. Enjoy. **

* * *

Tig wakes up groggy, there's no light in his shitty hotel room and he reaches out for the hooker who'd shared his bed the night before. But the sheets on the other side of the bed are empty and cold. Good, he wouldn't have to kick a bitch out. He rolls onto his back and stares up at the stained ceiling, he hates the Redwood Inn. He's hated every minute he's spent in the dingy little room but his baby girl needed his apartment so he'd handed it over. She won't stay there anymore, he knows Leila, she'll run from anything that makes her hurt too much. It makes him wonder why she seems to be sticking it out with the Scot. He wonders why she sticks it out with him.

He pushes himself up in the bed and glances at the clock. Three, which means he's got five hours until the meeting with the Irish. He sinks back down against the pillows and tries to formulate some sort of plan. There are things in place to protect his girls if something happens tonight. Fawn and Dawn are taken care of, he's put enough money away over the last few years to pay their child support for awhile. Leila has the keys to his safety deposit box. There's enough cash there to get his oldest out of Cali and clear of any blow back. He doesn't worry about Leila as much, she's a capable girl. She's proven it recently.

His mind drifts to the scene they'd found in the basement of that shitty house the day before. Kevin Smith's body had been exactly where Leila'd said it would be. He'd already gone through rigor by the time they got there but the blood was still wet and pooling on parts of the bed. Tig had almost lost his mind at the man's position, his body half on the bed, a pile of duct tape near one of his hands. Smith's intention had been clear even in death. Tig had relished the disposal, cutting the man to pieces had been almost cathartic, Happy had been thrilled to help. They'd scoured the house making sure there was nothing left to tie Leila to the crime. Tig had been more than meticulous, he didn't want any of this shit following his kitten. There's a pounding at the door and Tig doesn't bother with clothes, just wraps himself in the sheets to answer.

"You expecting something slutty?" There's his girl, her face still bruised. She's obviously feeling better though, her hair is in some state of order. He doesn't miss the fact that she's wearing new boots.

"What are you doing here?" He's never told her where he stays when he isn't in the clubhouse.

"Happy gave me the address, I need to talk to you." She pushes past him into the messy room and he doesn't miss her disgusted face. "You're gross daddy."

"What's up kitten?" He sinks down on the foot of the bed and runs a hand through his hair. He assumes she's there to ream him out about slapping her the day before. He hadn't been able to help himself. Dyed hair or not she'd looked too much like her mother strung out on the floor.

"Chibs told me about the meet tonight and we need to talk about a few things." Her voice is firm and he wonders when she turned into this self assured woman.

"He shouldn't have done that baby, that's club business." She doesn't need to get any deeper.

"Yea well, he did, so you and I are going to chat. I don't want him killed. I know what the Irish are likely to ask for and I need you to do your best to keep Clay under control." He doesn't know what he can do and it kills him.

"I don't know how I can help with that. Clay wants to keep the gun trade and Jax and Chibs fucked up." She sinks into the spare chair.

"Clay isn't going to let them kill Jax, Gemma would eat his balls for breakfast but he's going to have to offer up something to make peace and Chibs makes the most sense. I don't want him killed daddy. I finally have a bit of a life starting here and I'd like to keep it." Tig wonders what his girl thought she was doing for all those years away if this is the beginnings of a life but he doesn't ask.

"This is a real problem Leila, I assume Chibs told you what happened. Jax may have loaded the gun but Chibs was holding it when it fired and we've only got his word to confirm that he didn't hit the trigger." He hates the way the words sound. Tig doesn't want to blame Chibs for a murder he didn't commit but he also doesn't want to make anymore promises to his baby girl that he can't keep and Chibs breathing after tonight is a long shot.

"The whole thing suspicious and I plan on digging a bit but that's not the point. I need you to do what you can to keep Chibs safe. I love him daddy." Tig takes in the defiant glint to her eyes, only slightly marred by the dark bruising. He'd dreamed of this day. He'd had visions of his oldest coming to him with some straight laced boy and telling him she was getting married. In his head the man was always sweet and kind and Leila was madly in love. For all his dark tendencies Tig would have been happy to walk his baby down the aisle like a proper father. Leila falling in love was not supposed to look like this.

"You've said that before. Are you sure? You don't have to love him kitten, you can just fuck him." Tig watches her carefully and he doesn't miss the way she looks away and squirms in her seat. It confirms all his worst fears.

"I know I don't have to and I know you don't think I can but I do love him and I want him to come back to me." She won't look at him when she says the words and Tig pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes. He hates that she assumes he thinks she's incapable in love instead of in love with the wrong person.

"Yea, alright. You have to do me a favor though." Leila glances back to his face. "I need you to go get Fawn and Dawn, if something goes wrong tonight and I don't come back I need you to go get your sisters and keep em safe. Their mom's an idiot, she won't be able to keep them like they need." Her eyes are wide.

"You're serious?"

"Yea, the paperwork's in the deposit box. It's all there, I signed my rights over to you all you need to do is file it and apply for custody. You'll get it. Colleen's got some serious issues. All the proof you need is with the legal shit." A thought occurs to him, "Oh, and don't freak out about all the pictures of you in there. I had you tailed in Utah, nothing creepy I swear." She shoots him a dark look.

"Seriously?" He nods, he's resigned to this now.

"You're my good one kitten, I need you to keep my other girls safe." He watches her.

"Jesus Tig, okay okay. I'll take care of it." She's nodding and he knows she will.

"Don't raise them with the Scot either, I don't want them talking funny." She cracks a smile and he feels triumphant.

"Fine." She's already jiggling her keys in her hand and she stands to go.

"What are you going to do? You said you were going to dig?" Her shoulders stiffen in a way that makes him nervous.

"You're not the only one with secrets daddy, I'm just going to call in a favor. Nothing dangerous." He doubts that but he doesn't feel like he has room to argue.

"Watch your six." She pulls a gun from her bag and smiles at him. It's his smile on her face and it terrifies him.

"I got this daddy." She presses a kiss to the top of his head. "Clean up, it smells like pussy in here," and then she's gone the door swinging shut on her back.

Tig throws himself back on the bed with a low groan. A glance at the clock confirms four and a half hours until the show down with the Irish. He knows he should get up and start to get ready, he should be cleaning his guns and preparing himself to die for the man his daughter loves. Instead he pulls the covers up over his head and closes his eyes against the bright light coming through the front window. He feels old for the first time in his life and he can't blame Leila for bringing on something that's been a long time coming.

Loving Chibs is easy, they're brothers and Tig wouldn't willingly give the Scot up for anything in the world. For all that they've had their differences over Leila the killer knows Chibs will take care of his girl he just doesn't understand why she couldn't go find some safe banker. A guy with a grill and a receding hair-line. Someone who could see her potential and at the same time keep her safe and away from this life they've all chosen. Another low groan and Tig pushes the covers back, pulling himself off the shitty hotel mattress. At the end of the day there's really no question of what has to be done. Chibs will live and if necessary Tig will die. Maybe dying to save Leila's happiness will prove he's always lived for her.

* * *

Leila waits until she's settled in the Chevelle to panic. She'd woken up in Chibs' arms and had known immediately what she needed to do. She didn't trust the situation with the Irish and she certainly didn't trust Clay. After everything she was unwilling to see anything else take what she'd worked so hard to get, she was going to fight this new destiny tooth and nail. She'd known Tig would agree to her request but she'd been completely unprepared for the one he'd made of her. The idea that he wanted her to take care of Fawn and Dawn, it was ludicrous. She'd do it though, if it came down to the wire and her father needed her she was going to be there. Leila just hopes Tig doesn't do anything stupid to keep his promise but there's no time to worry now. Taking a deep breath she makes the call; there's still business to be handled and time is growing short.

The call is short and sweet, exactly to the point. Leila doesn't manage to get ahold of Matt but his bitchy friend seems more than eager with the directions and thirty minutes later finds Leila turning the Chevelle into a deserted parking lot half way between Charming and Lodi. As promised Matt is there, leaning against the hood of his standard issue sedan in a shitty dark suit. Leila puts the car in park and stares at him through the windshield, she can just make out the blonde agent through the dark tint of the sedan's windows. Well, that wasn't part of the deal. It'll make things easier though. Matt's face is serious as she climbs out of the car but he returns her smile, he's always been a sucker for a pretty girl and even if Leila is a bit battered she knows she's a weak spot for the older agent.

"Stahl tells me you've rethought our deal." He's already holding a stack of papers backed in blue. Hopeful man.

"In a way, it's a bit more complicated than that." Leila leans back against the hood of the Chevelle, she won't get closer than this.

"I know you're not here to rat Leila, if you were going to do you would have years ago. What do you want?" She's about to blow his mind.

"I want information, you mentioned some Irish shit the other day and I'm curious. I want to know who Charlie Flanagan is, why you think his connection to the club is important." Matt scoffs and rubs a hand down his face.

"You're not dumb enough to think that's how this works. You're supposed to give me information remember?" She shrugs.

"The way I see it you owe me one Matt. I'd call it a favor but I'm pretty sure you'd call it blackmail." She shoots him a cocky smile and watches as his face falls.

"Don't bring that old shit up." He moves away from the sedan and she forces herself not to react as he steps into her personal space.

"I'll bring up whatever I want to. Maybe I'll bring it up with your wife, or your director. I'm sure they'd love to know why you're so keen on the Sons." She shoves her hands in the pockets of her jeans to hide their traitorous shaking.

"What happened with us has nothing to do with me staying on the Sons." Matt's eyes are cold and Leila meets them head on. This is the Matt she remembers.

"What happened was you fucking a fifteen year old in federal custody. I bet shit like that doesn't even have a statute of limitations. It'll ruin a career either way." She can still remember the way her virgin blood stained the sheets of the safe house bed. She'd only been in custody for underaged drinking for one night but it had been enough.

"You're a bitch. You seduced me…" She cuts him off before he can get too high on power.

"I was 15 Matt, I may have been a willing participant but I certainly didn't seduce you and I doubt any court would believe you anyways. After all I've kept quiet all these years out of fear for my life." She smiles and she knows she must look just a bit like the Cheshire cat.

I don't know what you think you're going to get." He looks furious.

"I think I'm going to get whatever I want. I still have the sheets you ass. I may have been young but I wasn't raised a fool." His face goes red for a moment and Leila leans back just in case he decides to take a swing but he steps back instead. "Good boy." She wants to rub it in just a bit more.

"What do you want?" His eyes cut back to the blonde still sitting in the other car.

"I want to know why Flanagan's death hit the federal radar so quickly. I want whatever you've got." She stares him down trying to channel some of the hardness she'd seen in the men of SAMCRO on similar occasions. He digs through the briefcase perched on the hood of the car.

"Take this." He holds out the paperwork in his hands and she hesitates. "Take it." His voice is hard; she snatches it.

"What is it?" She's already flipping through the pages.

"It's CI paperwork." His voice is resigned and she glares at him.

"I'm not here to rat Matt."

"It's not CI paperwork for you, well there's some in there for you but mostly it's Flanagan's." Leila feels her throat go tight.

"He was a rat?" Her voice is a hiss.

"For three years he's been passing us information about the RIRA. Never enough to convict but enough to keep us interested. I think he was playing his own game but my bosses weren't convinced so we kept him on." She clutches the papers tighter, this is her miracle.

"Do the Irish know?"

"No, or at least we don't think they did. Not sure really. I want the sheets Leila." She smiles and shoves the papers in her bag.

"I really appreciate your help agent Conrad, I'll read over these and get back to you if we have a deal." She doesn't miss the panic in Matt's face and she widens her smile for the blonde slowly climbing out of the car. "Agent Stahl, thanks for setting this meet up. Hopefully I'll have some information for you both by the end of the day." Matt's head is turning rapidly between Leila and the blonde and Leila knows he's well aware he's not going to get shit. "Have a nice day." Her voice is sugar sweet as she climbs back into the Chevelle. Finally something had gone exactly to plan, maybe she could keep up the lucky streak.

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**Reviews are always welcome and thanks for reading. **

**Coming soon: Leila pushes her luck. **


	20. Chapter 20

***I do not own anything you recognize* **

**Hey all, so this is an epic update. My life is about to explode and I wanted to get as much of this up as I could before things went crazy. This is not the end but I'm hoping these three chapters can hold you all over while I finish the last bit. It's a pretty good stopping point for awhile. I want to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter and those of you who will read these next ones. Enjoy. **

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Leila heads back to the clubhouse immediately, her entire mind focused on getting Juice to hack a few databases and confirm the information now trapped in her purse. She has no idea how she managed to keep up the badass routine through the entire encounter with Matt but she's proud. Apparently all it takes a good kidnapping and a girl gets hard overnight. Or maybe it's the love that's doing it, either way Leila doesn't mind the change.

It only takes one quick glance around the Teller-Morrow lot to know she's going to be disappointed, there's not a bike in sight. She can feel her heart beating a mile a minute as she stomps into the clubhouse; she settles herself at the bar with a stiff drink and starts to read. She might as well educate herself while she waits. Two hours later and she's come to terms with the fact that Matt didn't actually give her much, at least not hard copy. The files contain only what he'd said, a set of paperwork for her to sign if she decided to go rat and another set with Flanagan's signature scrawled at the bottom. The only saving grace is the date on Flanagan's paperwork; it's dated three years before.

She's just starting to think her lucky streak is over when with less than an hour to spare Juice bursts through the door. He's obviously in a hurry, his eyes scanning the main room of the clubhouse and Leila watches quietly from the bar as he seems to spot what's looking for. She smiles behind a hand as he rushes to the far couch and pulls a bulletproof vest from under one of the cushions. Only the mohawked brother would misplace such a vital piece of equipment.

"Juice!" He spins when she yells his name, his eyes going wide. He fumbles for a gun and Leila throws her hands up. "Woah buddy, just me." His hands drop.

"Leila? What are you doing here? Clay's got everyone on lockdown they've been looking for you over at Gemma's." His face is taut and she wonders if he still fears killing like he had months before.

"I had some errands to run, I'm not a fan of lockdown. I need your help." He pulls the vest over his head and starts towards her.

"No, I have to get you to Gemma's and get down to the docks. Tig'll kill me if you're not safe. Chibs too for that matter, come on." He's already reaching for her arm on the words and she pulls away from him.

"Flanagan was a rat." She pauses for a moment to let that sink in. "I have some proof here but I need you to find more. We have to hurry." For a moment she thinks she's sent him into shock but then he's reaching past her to grab at the blue backed paperwork.

"This shit's all for you." His eyes hold an accusation and she rolls her eyes.

"The next bit you dick. I had to play nice to get the parts we need." There's still suspicion there but he nods and flips to the last set of pages and she watches, as his eyes get wider. He starts to rock from foot to foot and Leila knows from experience that's a good sign.

"This is incredible, there's even a case number. How'd you get this?" The accusation returns to his tone and she shrugs.

"I called in a very old favor. Can you pull up his old statements?" He's nodding before she's even gotten the words out and she follows him towards the computer set up on the far side of the room. Clay had made a big fuss when Juice had asked for the expensive equipment a few months ago but so far it had been more than worth the money. Leila glances down at the small clock on the corner of the scree, "You have to hurry."

"I'm gonna have to hack a federal database, it's not a quick process." He sounds frustrated and she ignores him, leaning forward to watch his fingers fly over the keys. She bounces on the balls of her feet, hands on his jumping shoulders. She feels like his ADD is catching.

It takes thirty minutes and Leila hovers over the biker for the entire time. When he finally hits the motherload she waits with baited breath as the pages print. It feels like forever before he's standing, a large stack of loose paper in his hands. She snatches them from him and stares down at the printed words; it's all there in black and white, the death warrant that will save them all.

"We have to go." She's already heading for the door when Juice's voice cuts her off.

"I have to go. You have to stay here, give me the papers." She turns back to the young biker confused.

"You're not going alone. I'm coming, end of discussion." She stares him down daring him to tell her no again. He just shakes his head.

"Haven't you had enough? I'm not a prospect anymore, you have to listen to me." The laugh bubbles up from deep in her chest and he looks furious.

"To quote Piney, you're a fucking idiot." Leila uses the ten minutes Juice wastes ranting and raving about her attitude flipping through the freshly printed pages. She's just hit the last page when he suddenly quiets. She glances up at him calmly, question in her eyes.

"Fine, I'll take you." Juice is watching her and she ignores him, waiting until he's pulling his helmet back on to fold and pocket the final page of the statements. It holds a secret no one needs to know.

Five minutes later they're merging onto I5, Leila clings to Juice's back as he jerks the bike into traffic already going over a hundred. She's holding tight to his chest and remembers why she stopped getting on bikes with him in the first place. He may have painted the damned thing black when he was patched but he still rides it like they're in a video game. She can just see his watch over one broad shoulder and they're already late, the papers are tucked securely in the bag on her back. They need to hurry. Against her better judgement she butts her helmeted head into his back in encouragement. The dyna roars in approval when he opens the throttle.

It's full dark when they cut into the marina and Leila is in a panic. It's 8:12 and she knows 12 minutes is more than enough time for everyone she cares about to have become a corpse. In a bold move she jumps from the back of the bike before Juice has even dropped the stand and she races down the plank towards the docks, breathing hard. She can hear Juice's boots pounding behind and her still bruised ribs scream in protest at her gasping breaths. The group of men standing at the bottom of the ramp are easy to spot and she slows as she hits the wood of the floating platform. It's the perfect place to commit mass murder, shoot em dead and roll em off. The Irish had chosen with an outcome in mind.

There'd been raised voices when she skidded into the middle of things but her entrance and Juice's loud foot falls turn every assembled head. She feels her heart jump at the sight before her. The Irish are ranged along one side of the group and Leila recognizes McKeavey at the front. SAMCRO is in a similar formation; Chibs and Jax are standing front and center with Clay. Leila doesn't miss the way the Scot's eyes fall when he sees her, his hands tugging at his hair. If Chibs' is frustrated with her timely interruption then Clay is furious. His cold eyes bore into her for a moment before moving back to Juice.

"What's this Clay? Got ya women fighting too now?" McKeavey looks between her and the president with distrust.

"I don't know what this is about but I can assure you I'll handle it." The president just nods at Chibs and the Scot starts towards her. She tries to side step him but Juice is still close behind and she ends up between the two big men, her view obstructed.

"What the fuck are yeh doing here." Chibs' voice is harsh and she can tell he's mad. They hadn't talked since she'd fled his bed that morning.

"I can fix this." She puts her hands on his chest and attempts to shove past him but he's a wall. She ducks to the side and she can just make out Tig's profile, pointedly ignoring her presence.

"Yeh can't luv, yeh need to go. They know." Chibs runs a hand down her cheek and she knows he thinks he's about to die or he wouldn't show such weakness in front of the enemy.

"He was a rat! I have proof." She yells the statement, and Juice's hands come out over her head shoving Chibs out of her way. The Scot's face is a mask of shock.

"She's right." Juice has his chest pressed against her back and he's shoving her forward. She's already pulling the backpack off, her fingers at the top. She pauses at the sound of a safety clicking off. Turning her head she comes up staring at the wrong end of McKeavey's gun. There's a choked noise from behind her and she knows its Tig.

"I have proof." She modulates her voice and holds the bag out McKeavey, her eyes begging him to take it.

"I should put a bullet in ya brain for talking such shit about a man loyal to the cause." McKeavey's face is red but she's been lucky all day might as well push it.

"Just fucking take the bag." She shakes it for emphasis and is vindicated when he motions towards the drawstring sack with the gun. A nameless Irishman reaches out for it and as soon as it's gone she steps back. Juice is pulling her into the protective crowd of SAMCRO and he passes her off to Chibs. The Scot's face is blank as he steps in front of her, one hand on her arm to keep her in place.

"This better not be a trick Clay." McKeavey's voice is serious and Clay throws a look back at Leila.

"I'm sure it's not. Why don't you do what the lady said and take a look." She imagines it took the president everything he had to back her up but she doesn't care because McKeavey nods and two of his men are pulling the stack of papers from the bag.

"It's all there. They'll see it." Juice's voice is whisper from her side and she tries to calm her shattered nerves. She reaches out, gripping the back of Chibs' kutte, leaning into his solid form. He smells like home and she presses her face between his shoulders. He tenses in front of her and one big hand reaches back to wrap awkwardly around her waist. Her eyes are open and all she can see is the laughing reaper on her man's back, she sends up a silent prayer.

"It's all here." The speaking Irishman sounds stunned and Leila hears papers shuffle even as Chibs leans back into her just a bit.

"This is original, and the statements have been printed straight off the ATF database, they're all watermarked with the seal." McKeavey curses and Leila presses a smile into the reaper's taunting face.

"Looks like we did you a favor." Clay can't hide the pride and relief in his voice and Leila decides the old man owes her a new car, or maybe an expansion on the shop.

"Aye, looks like you did." McKeavey sounds tired and Leila knows he's dreading having to take this news home.

"We good? Next shipment on time?" It's back to business as usual.

"It'll be here in two days. Call this one on the house. Always nice doing business with ya Clay. Have a grand night boys, I'm sure yer all going to celebrate." There's a knowing tone in McKeavey's voice and Leila hears the telltale sound of guns being safetied and holstered but there's nothing else McKeavey can do in light of this revelation.

There are a few more tense moments and Leila keeps her face pressed into Chibs' back until she can no longer hear the Irish's retreating steps. When the last footfall sounds a long silence descends over the men of the MC and Leila feels all the air leave Chibs as his body slumps forward, his shoulders going slack for what must be the first time in two weeks. It's Juice who breaks the silence, his loud whoop of joy echoing around the deserted dock and like it gives permission there are suddenly relieved sighs echoing from every corner. It's Clay who gets to her first, his eyes more alive than Leila's ever seen them as he grabs her. He's completely heedless of her bruises when he pulls her in tight, planting a loud kiss on her forehead.

"Where have you been all my life? I swear to God that was the greatest thing I've ever seen!" She yelps in pain as he suddenly picks her up and spins her. "You Trager's are going to be the death of me but I swear baby girl, anything you want." She laughs as the oddly jubilant president drops her back on her feet.

"I need a fucking drink."

"Can you say cutting it close."

"You two are ridiculous."

"You scared the shit out of me kitten." This last part comes from Tig and Leila turns to face him. "Don't make a habit out of it."

"I'll do what I want." She's really getting into this new take charge thing. Tig cracks a smile.

"Free guns and ATF files, you're a queen among women." Jax's smiling face appears over Tig's shoulder and Leila feels the cut in the corner of her mouth split she's grinning so wide.

"Party?" It's Juice who throws out the suggestion and there are more cheers but Leila only has eyes for the sulking man across the way.

"You need a ride baby girl?" Tig grabs at one of her hands and she glances back to her father's face.

"No, I have to take care of somethings first." He just nods.

"My offer still stands. I'll kill him." He's grinning and she rolls her eyes.

"Go get drunk, bury yourself in pussy. I'll catch up with you tomorrow." He presses a kiss to her cheek and she watches him disappear up the dock ramp with the rest of the club. She's going to make them earn this save, she already has plans for the second store front she wants next to Reaper Ink but first…

"You've got some explaining to do." Chibs is leaning against a wide piling, his face unreadable.

"Yeh ready for that? Now that yeh've taken care of all my business?" He sounds mad and when she looks at the situation objectively Leila can almost understand why.

"Don't get puffed up outlaw. I took care of things other people weren't." There's a question in his eyes and she walks towards him.

"I didn't give them everything. The last statement Juice found explains why the gun malfunctioned, or at least I think it does." She pulls the crumpled paper from her back pocket and holds it out. "You don't have to read it now but it's from a month ago. Flanagan told the agent on duty he thought his father was on to him, he was worried about blow back. He wanted witpro but they wouldn't take him in without first hand testimony from a gun deal." Chibs snatches the paper from her and his fingers are immediately tearing it to pieces. She watches as they drift down to the surface of the dark water, sinking slowly below the surface. "I'm guessing," she continues, "that daddy Flanagan had someone rig the test gun, fuck with the firing pin or something so it would go off. He was hoping his turncoat son would die and SAMCRO would take the fall."

"Clay can never know." Chibs' voice is firm and she nods.

"I'm aware. I made sure Juice didn't read it either. Just you and me." She grabs the front of his kutte.

"Yer too smart for yer own good. Yeh have to keep it quiet Leila. If Clay finds out it was an Irish set up or god help us if McKeavey finds out his boss knew there was a rat." He brushes a hand down her cheek.

"I know. Now take me home so I can yell at you a bit. You've got it coming." He nods at that but he's got a ghost of a smile on his face.

"I know it's the exact wrong thing to say darlin but yeh'd make a damn find old lady." She laughs at his audacity and steps back, grabbing at his hand.

"Come on." He lets her lead him up the ramp and even though she plans on tearing him apart once they get home she's more than willing to relax momentarily into the triumph that fills her chest.

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**Reviews are always welcome. **


	21. Chapter 21

***I do not own anything you recognize***

**Enjoy. **

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He doesn't know what she means by home but he figures she doesn't want to go to the clubhouse. They end up in the familiar apartment parking lot and when Chibs cuts the bike he waits for her to make the next move. He's got a lot things to explain and even more to apologize for; she's going to have let him know which way this is going. Leila seems more than content to remain on the back of the bike so Chibs pulls himself off and holds out a gloved hand. She doesn't move to take it and he stares down into her battered face.

The bruising around her temple is still dark but the black eye has started to fade into greens and yellows. The cut at her temple still has butterfly bandages on it and Chibs can just see the way it will scar, one day it will be a thin white curve like a crescent moon around her pretty eye. He wonders if she'll want him around by the time it's healed. She eventually crawls off the bike and they don't talk as he leads her towards the front door. It's still being held in place by sheer luck and it takes nothing to push it open. He leads her to the bedroom, it's the only place not still a mess from her fight with Smith.

"What now lass?" She's thrown herself down on the foot of the bed and he watches as she tugs at her new boots. He has no idea when she'd had time to go out and buy them but the leather is stiff and she's having trouble getting the right one off. He kneels down in front of her and gives it a tug, landing on his ass as it comes free.

"I have no idea." He chucks the boot over a shoulder and pulls her down onto the floor with him.

"I'll do anything Leila, anything yeh want." She's on her knees in front of him and she shrugs.

"I wanted to yell at you. I wanted to come in here and be so angry, I want to scream and fight. I want to hate you; you deserve to be hated. You had no right to do the things you did, no right." Her eyes are blazing and he feels a spark of hope, she wouldn't be mad if she didn't still care.

"Aye, lass you're right. I'm so sorry."

"No, NO!" She pulls herself up, a hand on her ribs and her voice rises. "You don't get to play all apologetic and sad. I want a fight and I'm going to fucking get one. You saved me nine months ago by being a hard ass and telling me what's right and now you don't get to sit back and take it away." She kicks out at his side as she speaks and he rolls moving out of the way before getting to his feet. This is a new Leila, this is the angry, indignant girl that's usually only reserved for Tig.

"That was a mistake girl." He can't believe she'd tried to hit him.

"You were a mistake. Explain it to me. Explain to me how you thought it was a good idea to fall in love with me while you're married to another woman. Explain the croweater, fucking explain what happened in the kitchen." She's yelling now and he wonders how they went from calm and controlled at the dock to this so quickly.

"Yeh started that shite in the kitchen." He rolls his shoulders and he's never been this frustrated with the damn girl.

"You started it. You lied, you pushed me away, you got your dick sucked. I didn't do shit." She pokes him in the chest and he grabs at her wrists.

"I was tryin to protect yeh the only way I knew how. I thought yeh'd run after the first talk. Didn't think yeh'd come back for more, yeh've obviously done a bit of growing up. I wanted yeh clear of the Irish blowback. Didn't know yeh had yer own shit brewing." He's out of line and he knows it but he's never had a great handle on his temper and she's really pushing her luck.

"I can't believe you, you're trying to blame the Smith shit on me and justify getting a BJ from some hooker in the same breath!" She throws her hands up in the air and turns away from him. His shoulder sag, she's more than right. He reaches out for her and she side steps him, her body tensing. "This is not something you can fix with sex Chibs. We do too much of that."

"I really was trying to protect yeh Leila. Yeh got no idea, I've lost one family to the fucking Irish already I couldn't lose another. Pushin yeh away was instinct; it made sense at the time. I wanted to protect yeh, I've always wanted to protect yeh." He reaches out again and this time she doesn't fight him off when his fingers find flesh. He pulls her back against his chest and presses his face into her neck. She smells familiar and he feels his pulse drop for the first time since she'd come barreling down the dock earlier that night.

"Is that what happened with the wife and kid then?"

"Aye, well, in a way. Jimmy O'Phelan took them from me, although I've come to terms with the fact that Fiona had to want to go. My baby girl though, he took her and left me with a scarred face to remember who's in the charge." Leila nods.

"What does that make me?" He's been trying to avoid this question in his own head for months.

"We can't get married but I want to keep yeh. I love yeh Leila. I really do. Yeh said I was yers. I want that." She sinks back into his chest and turns to face him.

"You can't keep doing this Chibs. You can't keep making maps about our future without me involved. You had that crow drawn up, you tried to push me away. I know where I want this to go and I don't need to telling me how to get there." Her face is serious. "There are only two ways women survive this life and I've done the not knowing anything route already. It hasn't worked out so well. If we're going to keep this up you have to talk to me." He presses his forehead into hers.

"Yeh've been keeping yer own secrets recently darlin. Yeh should have told me what was really going on with Smith. I know yeh can handle yer own problems but I want to be there." Her eyes cut away from his and he can tell she's annoyed.

"I know. I've never had anyone I can rely on, I think there's going to be a learning curve for both of us." Her hands come up to catch in his hair and he relaxes into her. "I love you too you know." Her words are barely a whisper but his heart explodes with them. "You can't go back to her though, if I stay and we give this a shot, you're mine. I know you have a responsibility to the kid but I won't share you. I know the rules of the club and I can deal with it but I can't have another woman in my home."

"Any chance of that died a long time ago luv. There's nothing to go back to." It's true, the Fiona he'd fallen love with was long gone and he'd left any lingering affection he might have for her in Ireland. Leila presses a chaste kiss to his lips and he tightens his arms around her even more. "What do yeh want to do now pet? Yeh feel like yeh yelled enough?" She nods and presses her face into his chest.

"Take me to the clubhouse. I can't sleep here." He can certainly understand that so he waits patiently while she shoves some clothes in a bag and then they leave. He's not stupid enough to think this is the end of the fighting but she admitted she loves him and for now that will do.

The celebrations are still in full swing at the Teller-Morrow lot and it's obvious someone alerted the families because there are kids everywhere, wives and old ladies struggling to keep them contained. Lockdown was officially over and SAMCRO had survived yet another threat, it was a night worth celebrating. Leila sticks close to his side as they wind through the crowd; she seems intent on getting to his dorm with as little conversation as possible. Chibs spots Tig on the far side of the room, leaning against a wall, a brunette bobbing between his thighs and the Scot rushes them past. They hit his dorm without too many mental scars and Chibs slides the lock, blocking out the noise of his brothers.

When he turns back around Leila's already starting to drop clothes, her shirt is gone and she's hopping on one foot, attempting to pull off the stiff boots again. He lunges forward to catch her just before she loses her balance and goes to his knees at her feet. With one steadying hand on her waist her helps her tug off the offending footwear before his fingers ghost at the snap on her jeans. He glances up at her face for permission and her hands come down on his shoulders. Pressing his face into the skin of her stomach he pulls the denim down her legs. He can just see the dark outlines of his hands, on each of her hips. A shot of arousal goes through him at the sight but he forces it down. It's not time to push his luck.

She moves away from him and he feels the usual nighttime rhythm of the last few months together settle into place. He hangs his kutte and pulls off his shirt, holding it out to his half naked girl. He'd thought it funny the first time she'd insisted on sleeping wrapped up in his too big clothes but it had become habit at this point. She crawls into the bed as soon as she's pulled the fabric over her head and Chibs sheds his jeans and boots before following her. He knows as soon as he's settled under the sheets next to her tonight's going to be a twenty questions night. It's clear from the way she settles her head against his chest, her fingers tracing the lines of his unfinished reaper tat on the opposite arm.

"What's her name?" His mind flips through the many hers his girl could ask about.

"Who's pet?" He doesn't want to answer wrong and stir things up again.

"Your daughter."

"Kerrianne." It's been so long since he's had reason to say it out loud it feels awkward on his tongue.

"That's beautiful. I saw her pictures, in the box from the closet. She's a lovely girl. You looked so happy with her." Leila rubs her face into his chest and he tangles his fingers in her curls. Her roots are growing out and he can just make out the natural honey brown color of her hair against the darker red of her latest dye job.

"Aye, she's a sweet girl. Miss her." There's no point in hiding this pain anymore.

"I'm sure you do. You should try and bring her over sometime. If you can." That's a shocking idea but he lets it settle in his mind all the same.

"Yeh'd be okay with that?" He has no idea how they'd ever pull it off but if they could he'd be over the moon.

"Of course," Leila's voice is muffled by his skin, she's talking directly into his shoulder. "She's a part of you. I can't ever give you that, I can't make you that happy again, I'm not going to keep you from your only child." Something clicks in his head and he pulls away only to find her eyes bright with unshed tears.

"Yeh know that's not important don't yeh lass. I know we've talked before but I guess I've never said it out loud, I don't mind that yeh can't have babies. I mean if it's something yeh want we can talk about options but I've never thought of it as a problem." The first of her tears slip out and she presses her face back into his chest.

"Kev— Smith I mean well he wanted me to have his baby. Or a baby, thought I was going to birth the second coming or some nonsense. I killed him before he found out he would have been disappointed but I guess its just after that and then finding that photo of you with your girl right after she was born. What man wants a woman who's missing the important parts?" Chibs lets this newest hurt sink in and pulls her tight, rolling them so she's in her favorite spot perched on his chest.

"Yeh said he didn't touch yeh."

"He didn't just tried. Told me his plans though." She's tracing his scars now and something about the bedtime ritual makes Chibs feel like they really are going to be okay.

"That's seriously fucked up lass. I hope yeh don't actually think yeh're missing any important parts. Yeh've got all the ones I enjoy." He grabs at her ass for emphasis and she presses a watery smile into his cheek.

"You're insatiable. I'm still mad at you."

"Aye, that's alright. Yeh stay mad and I'll stay horny. We'll be just like every other maladjusted couple in the states." That gets a laugh out of her and he digs his fingers into her hips.

"Tell me again." He loosens his grip a she squirms to slide off his chest and settle back into his side.

"Tell yeh what?"

"That you love me." He smiles.

"Yeh already know, so why would I go around repeating it all the time?" He can't see her face but he knows she'll be pouting.

"I like the way you say it. Your accent." Her fingers are running up and down his chest and he can just tell from the designs they're tracing she's planning more ink for him. She's already got two unfinished pieces spread over his body.

"I love yeh." He can feel her smile against his skin.

"Okay, I love you too."

"Go ta sleep yeh daft girl." He jumps when she flicks his nipple in retaliation for the insult but he feels her settle against him even more and it's only a few more minutes before her breathing evens out into rest.

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**Hopefully this settled some of the questions I got about Leila and Chibs getting back together so quickly. Reviews are always welcome. **


	22. Chapter 22

***I do not own anything you recognize***

**This is the last in a three chapter update. Go back to twenty to keep things in order. **

**Enjoy**

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It's been four weeks to the day since Leila woke up duct taped to a bed with Kevin Smith staring down at her. The cut on her temple has faded to a thin pink line around one eye and her bruising has all disappeared. Her ribs still twinge from time to time and she's pretty sure one had been cracked but she knows that it will only be another few weeks before even that is just a memory. It's late afternoon and Leila should be in the shop helping Happy handle the after work crowd but instead she's sitting in a booth at the usual diner waiting on Tig. She's fiddling with a sugar packet and trying to get her thoughts straight about the conversation she wants to have with her father.

"Sorry I'm late." Tig's deep voice startles her and the packet of sweetener goes flying. He raises an eyebrow and settles into the empty bench. "You alright there kitten? Thought you'd gotten over being jumpy." She has gotten over jumping at every noise, this is a new kind of nervous.

"I'm fine. You alright? You look tired, everything okay?" Sharing is their new normal and if something's wrong with Tig or the club Leila wants to know.

"I'm good." He runs a hand over his face, "Clay had us all out late last night to bring in the new shipment. Free of charge again by the way." Leila rolls her eyes, this is the second free shipment from the Irish and she has no doubt it's because Flanagan's father finally got the news. She hopes he's nervous SAMCRO will find out that he'd intentionally had the test gun tampered with. So far it's a secret Leila's kept to herself but if the events last months proved one thing it's that blackmail is never bad. She'll keep king Flanagan clear of blowback as long as it suits her needs.

"That's great." She smiles at Tig before picking up a menu. "What do you want to eat?" She wants a giant cheeseburger.

"Doesn't matter." Tig's watching her, "What'd you need to talk about kitten? You called this meeting a bit out of order." It's true, she'd called him to meet her three days ahead of their usual schedule.

"I found a new place." She tries to sound excited. "It's not as nice but you can officially dump that shitty room at the Redwood and take your apartment back." He nods.

"Thanks. Think I'm going to get rid of it though. Don't like the idea of living somewhere my baby can't visit." She scowls at him but he's right. She'll never step foot in that apartment again.

"It's Chibs' birthday today. He's 29." Tig scowls just a bit at the mention of the Scot and Leila ignores him. "We're having a party at Gemma's tonight but I'm sure you know that."

"Yep, plan on being there. Not getting the asshole a present though and don't go adding my name to cards or anything." She rolls her eyes.

"You kids know what you want?" The smiling waitress at the end of the booth is staring at them both expectantly.

"Cheeseburger and fries." Leila grins up at the other woman, she's been working on being nice to strangers. Her experiences with Kevin had made her more than wary and she's tired of feeling like everything's a threat.

"Same." Tig is simple and the waitress departs. "What'd you need to talk about Leila? Your mother again?" He's watching her with closed eyes and Leila knows he doesn't want to chat about Margaret again. They'd done a lot of that over the last few weeks as she'd bombarded him with a million questions trying to relearn her youth.

"No, it's about Chibs actually. I have an appointment on Happy's table this afternoon to take his crow." She hasn't said the words out loud to anyone but the nomad and it feels weird to admit she's ready for commitment.

"That's great." Tig's tone is bright but his face makes it clear he's far from excited. "You guys worked everything out then?"

"Yea, we have but for some reason I still need you to be okay with this." She hates it but she does. After their fight she and Chibs had attempted to settle into a bit of normality but it had soon become obvious they were both just playing parts. It had all exploded again after only four days and they'd both had to come to terms with that fact that one fight wasn't going to solve all their problems. Things had mellowed though and they were starting to have regular conversations about all the issues floating around. The conversations had created new level of calm and equality in their relationship and Leila's finally in a place where her instinct is to run to the Scot instead of away. But she still needs to her father to understand. Before Chibs, Tig is the only man who had ever claimed her as anything other than a problem and she wants him to approve of this new choice.

"What if his Irish bitch comes back?" She'd asked Chibs this same question a million times. Like father like daughter.

"Then we'll deal with it together. He's not going to leave me daddy and I don't plan on going anywhere." He's not either, she knows this now and it's settled into her mind as the one certainty she can cling to when things get rough.

"How do you know? We live a tough life." Tig is just digging now and they both know it but Leila hadn't expected any different.

"If you're going to use that logic you could leave me too." He shrugs and she levels her gaze at him. "I'm getting the ink with or without your permission but I'd like you to be okay with it." His eyes dart out the window and she knows she's got him cornered.

"Yea okay. I won't kill him or anything. But if he hurts you I might make sure he disappears." Tig's eyes are bright and Leila knows this is the best she's going to get out of him after everything.

"Fine." She's got a snappish tone but her eyes go soft, "I love you daddy, you'll always be my first MC man. You know that." Tig smiles at her and his hand darts across the table to mess her curls.

"That's all I need to know. Where the fuck are those burgers?" As though he conjured her, the waitress appears seconds later with the food and they both dig in, chewing making conversation impossible.

"You had any trouble from Conrad after that stunt you pulled?" Tig has annihilated his burger and is leaning back in the booth looking satisfied.

"Not really. Just the once." Leila listlessly dips a fry and thinks back on that disaster. Matt had been pissed about her blackmail and when Kevin was reported missing by his office the ATF agent had taken the opportunity to bring Leila in for questioning. He hadn't had anything though. Leila's only known connection to Kevin was through the shop and it was easy to lie to Matt's face. Tig and Happy had made sure Kevin Smith's body would never be found and the house he'd held her in burned to the ground a few weeks ago. Electrical fire, courtesy of Op.

"You still having the nightmares baby girl?" Tig's eyes are soft and he's watching her closely for deception. She nods.

"Sometimes. Might have punched Chibs the other night when he tried to wake me up." She smiles, "You'll enjoy his black eye this evening." Tig lets out a crowing laugh.

"You fucked up the Scot. That's my girl." She rolls her eyes.

"Don't be too much of a dick about it." She's about to say something else but the alarm on her phone goes off. "Shit, I have to go, Hap's meeting me at the shop. Don't be late tonight." She's already getting up to leave.

"I guess this was my treat then, huh?" His voice is teasing and she ignores the dig and presses a kiss to his dark curls.

"Don't be an ass daddy. My entire life has been your treat, let's not change a good thing." He laughs again and Leila lets the sound trail her out into the parking lot. The man's a fuck up but she wouldn't trade him for the world.

Reaper Ink is dark when Leila pulls up and the closed sign is turned. She gets out of the car and heads for the door, her eyes unconsciously marking the two chips in the pavement where Hap's killer woman landed slugs weeks before. The nomad is inside with his machine already set up, the other two stations are still a mess and Leila has no doubt the killer kicked out paying customers to do this work for her in private.

"Where's Talia?" The receptionist's absence is noticeable considering she should be on the clock for another two hours.

"Sent her home. Well really Juice came to get her but I figured you wouldn't mind." He's already holding a transfer page fresh off the printer.

"Don't know why it would matter that she's here." Leila's not too concerned though, she's already pulling her leather off and getting ready for the rush of endorphins to come.

"It matters because after I finish this you'll be Scottish property and no one has a right to be looking at you topless. Best remember that." The nomad gives her a hard look and Leila wonders if Chibs will really be that possessive. Who's she kidding he practically already is. She pulls off her thermal shirt and settles onto the table. "The Scot should be here. I know how you are about ink."

"It's a surprise. I'm sure you can keep yourself under control. I was fine when you did the hands." She undoes the button on her jeans and shoves them down an inch or so to give him better access to her hips.

"Yea but I remember when I did the touch up on that back piece, you squirming all over the place. The Scot had to help you rub one off half way through so you didn't go crazy." His face is stern and she tries to smile reassuringly.

"He's supposed to pick me up here in three hours so we can go to the party together. I'll keep it in check." Hap just shrugs and starts up the rig.

The process is familiar and the significance of the piece doesn't change any of the steps. Happy cleans the site, sprays on some greensoap and lays down the transfer. It fits just like it did a month before and Leila leans up on her elbows the check the placement. She likes it there between the handprints. It almost looks like someone is trying to hold the crow in place so it doesn't fly right off her skin. It's a fitting image considering the sometimes twisted nature of their relationship. She nods a yes to Hap's silently questioning eyes and settles back onto her back for the duration.

For someone who spends her life putting needle to skin Leila is horrible at getting tattoos. The soft whir of the machine combined with the painful rub of the needle has a tendency to sink her into a bit of a trance. When Hap starts on the first stroke of the outline she feels the familiar rush of adrenaline and her mind goes hazy. She's not the first person to get off from the pain of new ink but she can tell it annoys the shit out the nomad when her hips jerk.

"I'll tie you down." His voice is a threatening rumble and she nods, biting her lip to keep still. It takes half an hour for her to get the reactions under control but after awhile she just closes her eyes and lets the world float away.

"You're done." It seems like it's been no time at all before Hap is carefully rubbing at his finished product.

Leila feels heavy and light at the same time, and she knows her eyes are probably unfocused in her daze but she forces herself up on forearms to look at the bird on her hips. It looks just like the pencil sketch from weeks before and Hap's done an incredible job shading it. The Scottish flag in it's talons is the only color, standing out in bright white and blue. In her state she almost misses the words he's wrapped along the curve of the bunched cloth in well done script: 'born, bred, and loved.' She raises an eyebrow and the nomad shrugs.

"What? You're not just some lucky pussy, you were raised for this shit. Tigger deserves credit too." She's about to open her mouth to answer when there's pounding at the front door. "That would be your dick, good thing too. Someone needs to fix that look in your eye." She just rolls said eyes and grabs her shirt from the stand as Happy goes to answer the door.

"Just get to the party Hap, I'll clean up here." He nods without looking back but she doesn't miss the way he grabs the keys to his bike off the front desk. "Thanks!" The nomad doesn't respond and she can hear him talking to Chibs in the front. She's just pulled her shirt over her head when she hears the door slam and Chibs appears in the main parlor.

"Hey lass, yeh alright." Chibs has his keys in his hands but he's looking at her with concern. His right eye is still bruised from her lucky hit the night before. "Yeh and the lad been smoking?"

"No." She blinks a few times in an attempt to look less strung out and smiles at him. "I've got something to show you though." He cocks and eyebrow and drops his keys on the counter moving towards the table she's still sitting on.

"Do yeh now? Does it have anything to do with Hap calling me a lucky fuck on his way out?" He's standing right in front her her now and she has to crane her neck to see his face. She reaches out to tug on the open sides of his kutte and he complies by sinking to his knees in front of her.

"Maybe." His fingers come out to trail down her cheek and she leans into the contact. She loves this man so much it hurts.

"Aye, such a silly lass. What have yeh done now?" His voice is soft and his hand slides back to tangle in her curls, now closer to her natural color than they've been in a year. She doesn't answer, instead she leans forward and pushes her lips against his. He seems surprised for a moment but he's never been a man who has trouble going with the flow and it's not long before he's kissing her back. "So yeh got new ink then?" He pulls back and presses his forehead against hers. He knows what she's done, she can see it in his eyes but she wants to show him anyways.

"Yes." Her voice is soft and she stands in front of him. His hands drift down to settle around her waist and his eyes are on level with her hips when she pulls her shirt over her head. She hadn't bothered to refasten her jeans and once she's topless the crow is front and center.

"Oh luv." His voice is soft and he looks up at her from the floor with big liquid eyes. She hisses when his finger trails just over the words twisting around the flag. "Well that's a lovely birthday." She smiles down at him and he presses a kiss just below her belly button.

"You like it?" His expression makes it clear this was a stupid question before she's even finished speaking.

"Will it mess it up?" She knows exactly what he's asking and shakes her head no. He doesn't need anything else to push her back on the long table and climb up with her. His hands are already twisted in her hair and his lips find hers with force. She gasps up into him and arches her back to get more contact. "Gotta be quick pet, the party. I'll do it right tonight."

She just nods more than ready for anything and his fingers are already tugging at the clasp on her bra. The cloth comes free with little fight and she surges up against his still covered chest already trying to tug at his kutte. He growls into her mouth and one of his denim covered legs comes up to press between hers. His mouth slides off hers and she relaxes into the feeling of him trailing heat down her neck.

"More," she's whispering into his hair and he nods against her chest before taking one pierced nipple into his mouth. Her fingers fight their way to his belt buckle and she can still feel the endorphins from the needle coursing through her system as she struggles to find completion. Her hands are clumsy between them and he seems to grow frustrated, letting out a whine before jumping off her and shedding his kutte and shirt, the jeans follow quickly. There's an awkward moment when he has to jump around to pull off boots but he manages and he's on her again before she even has a chance to giggle over his antics.

"You think that's funny lass?" His bare body is pressing down on her in the most delightful way and his eyes are wild.

"Just a little." She gives him a teasing smile but regrets it as soon as his fingers twist at her nipple. She gasps under him and he leans back to tug her pants off.

"Jeysus that's wonderful." He's kneeling between her legs his eyes scanning her naked form. She doesn't miss the way they keep flicking back to her hips. She's just wondering why he doesn't fuck her already when his fingers slide up between her legs and her eyes slam shut. He lets out a groan when he finds her dripping and she jerks her hips off the table in a demand.

He doesn't come back over her, instead his hands grip her hips and she moves to help him settle her over his thighs. He's sitting back on bent legs as he pulls her body up to his, one hand coming around to support her back as he shifts his hips to make the angle work. When he finally slides home it's with her legs wrapped around him, her upper body spread out flat before him. His body fills hers completely and Leila lets her mind go blank at the sensation. The tempo he sets is slower than she'd like but it's his party and she's not going to complain. His hand trails down her chest between her breasts and she arches up into the touch, desperate for more. His fingers twist a nipple and she lets her eyes drift open. He's staring down at her but his thrusts never slow, his eyes fixed on her hips. She'll never understand the male desire to own something so completely but if this is the end result she doesn't think understanding matters.

His free hand is sliding between their bodies and she reaches out trying to grip any part of him she can. With his rough thumb hitting her clit in time to his snapping hips she can feel completion starting to boil low in her spine. "Look at me." His voice is rough and this is a request she's become used to over the last few weeks. She lets her eyes drift up to his face and the sight of his dark feral eyes drives her over the edge, her upper body arching even as she can feel herself spasming around his length.

His growl at her orgasm is a warning as he suddenly pitches forward and she finds herself surrounded. One of his hands tangles in her hair and his lips find hers, his hips slam forward with more force than before. He smells like smoke, leather, and oil and after everything Leila can feel herself inching towards another release. She rewraps her legs around his back and brings her hands up to dig into his shoulders. His face is buried in her neck and he's whispering. The rumble of his voice goes straight through her and when he changes the angle of his hips she can feel a second orgasm starting.

She shifts her hips against his and trails tracks through his hair. His hips slam into her and it's almost too deep. When she comes undone the second time it's with a low moan and she can literally feel her body milk him into going over the edge with her. His teeth sink into her shoulder even as she feels him flooding her. The table is narrow and he's got no room to roll off so he ends up limp on top of her and Leila welcome his weight, she can feel his quick heart beat between her legs and she is a woman well loved. It takes a long moment but he finally comes up on his forearms and presses his forehead back into hers. His eyes are dark and unfocused but he presses a soft kiss to her lips.

"God, I love yeh." His voice is rough in the afterglow and Leila feels like her chest might explode.

"Love you too." These words are new to both of them but they feel wonderful rolling off her tongue. His head falls back into her neck.

"I'm gettin too old for this lass. I think that first position threw out my back." Her laugh is loud and she slaps at his side, pushing up until he's forced off, landing naked on the floor. "What the fuck."

"Don't be stupid." She glares down at him from the table. "You're fine." She pushes herself up until she's sitting. "Get the wraps, I have to cover the ink and clean this place up before we go."

"Fucking bossy bitch." He trails off into Gaelic and Leila rolls her eyes.

"I can get this removed you know." Her indignation turns into a shriek as one strong hand grabs her thigh and she ends up on top of him on the floor.

"Yeh wouldn't dare." His voice is stern but he smiles up at her. "Give me a kiss." She shakes her head no but one of his strong hands pulls her down by the neck and he steals what he wants. "There, now I'll help yeh clean up." It's too late though, she can already feel the need for a second round coiling in her chest and his laugh when she reaches around for his still soft cock fills the room and her heart. "Fucking love yeh."

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**There are too many of you to thank personally for the reviews but I love you all and I hope to be back in a few weeks with a chapter that wraps EVERYTHING up into a neat package. I hope you enjoyed what I've put out there so far and reviews are always welcome and so so so appreciated. **


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